


Back in Town

by jamesilver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Coming Out, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (past) - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, but not too much, draco moved to france but now he’s back and harry’s like wow i’m gay, ginny weasley/pansy parkinson (past), harry realizes his bisexuality, hermione granger/ron weasley (side) - Freeform, its really not that big of a focal point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14393694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesilver/pseuds/jamesilver
Summary: Holy fucking mother of Merlin.Harry was aware that he was sitting with both of his arms out and his eyes wide, staring off into the distance like he was absolute batshit high but this was a game changer. This was a bring-the-train-to-a-full-stop kind of situation because that was the most unbelievable realization that Harry had made ever since he learned he was a fucking wizard.He had a crush on Draco Malfoy.Actually, not only does he have a crush on Draco Malfoy, but he was fairly certain that he had a crush on Draco Malfoy when they were back at Hogwarts. And by that he meant at least third year. At least.Bisexuality. What an amazing gig.





	1. Welcome Back

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Another multichap drarry fic!! 
> 
> i hope y’all like it
> 
> (and yes i did post it a couple days ago and then delete it nothing has changed i am sorry)

Funny how it only takes one small event to change the mood of the entire day.

In Harry’s situation, this particular day was truly building up a case to be one of the worst in recent memory:

This morning, Ginny had come and collected the last of her things from his flat, officially signifying the end of their relationship (for the second time). He had also spilled tea all over himself. There was also a rip in one of his sets of auror robes that he didn’t have time to fix. Or know how to fix. He would have to ask Molly.

Now, none of this was including the fact that he had run into Rita Skeeter on his way into work—which he was running late to, might he add. By ten am, he was saddled with talking to a group of new auror recruits about inspiring them. That was, of course, before he had to go and investigate a domestic call that should have been routed to a different department. Oh, and during that house call he had been drenched head-to-toe when a vengeful six year old had dumped an entire bucket of ice cold water on him (that offer from Minerva was looking more and more appealing every day). This was all not to mention that he had his monthly ‘checkup meeting’ with that piece of shit ‘therapist’ who was insistent on digging into his life and that she had ‘challenged him’ to ‘find closure’ with the Dursleys.

So, yes, this was turning out to be a shit fucking day. And all he wanted was to have one motherfucking drink. Alone.

But, of course, he had promised all of his friends years ago that he would not purchase alcohol and keep it in the house. It was a pact they all made. After the war they found that if they had it in the house, they would drink it and things tended to not end well. So a drink in the pub it was.

After a fucking day like today, didn’t he deserve one?

Only, that meant that there was always the occasional gossip of ‘look, it’s Harry Potter!’ from a random corner of the establishment and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to smile and sign some bullshit dedicated ‘with love, Harry Potter.’ But he didn’t exactly want to go to a muggle place, either, because he didn’t trust himself to do anything but floo home afterwards.

Naturally, he chose the least frequented wizarding pub he knew of: the Hog’s Head.

Harry had just sat down in a secluded corner with his first drink when the door chimed open. If he was being honest, he was glad he hadn’t started drinking because he likely would have done a spit take.

It was Draco fucking Malfoy.

He hadn’t been in the area in years. What could he possibly be doing at the _Hog’s Head?_ Rumor was that after eighth year he had run off to France and stayed there for a damn while. Permanently was the info that Harry heard. What was he possibly doing back?

The blonde ordered a drink at the bar and just before the glass was set down in front of him, he cast a glance about the room. His eyes caught Harry and he near did a double take.

The glass hit the counter and the small _thunk_ could be heard from where Harry was at.

Malfoy’s eyes didn’t leave Harry’s as he wrapped his fingers around the drink, his body turning so that he faced Harry. Regarding him for only a moment, he left the counter and walked across the room, stopping only when he was a few feet from Harry’s table.

And he simply stood there. He didn’t make a move to sit down. He didn’t ask to, or say anything. Just...stood and looked at Harry.

So, he broke the silence first. “Care to sit, Malfoy?”

Malfoy smiled. “Yes, thank you for offering.” He slid into the chair across from Harry, leaning back, sitting casually. Much less refined that Harry remembered him being. To think that Malfoy would lean like so, his spine not perfectly straight, was almost making Harry uncomfortable. Maybe in these years since school he had changed. One can never tell for sure.

They each held the gaze of the other. It was like old habits were resurfacing. These days, Harry found that he was less and less competitive. He just didn’t see why it mattered anymore and to tell the truth, he kind of missed that in himself. It was like he could feel himself growing up and it was quite offputting.

But here he was, sitting across from Draco Malfoy, neither of them wanting to be the first to speak, the first to break eye contact, the first to leave. Like a third year game of chicken.

One that Harry knew he was going to lose.

He just couldn’t help it; the questions were burning his tongue as he tried to hold them in. And something about Malfoy...always got the better of Harry, didn’t he?

“What are you doing back, Malfoy?”

Of course, the blonde smirked and raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like an accusation, Mr. Auror.”

“I’m off the clock, so consider it the polite question of a civilian that you’re technically having drinks with.” Merlin, this man.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Potter?”

“Kind of why I’m asking.”

Malfoy seemed to think about it for a moment and while he did, Harry took note of the ways his face was more...open these days. Like he had actively been trying over the past couple of years to show more emotion. Be more human.

He took a deep breath, drawing Harry’s attention back. “If you must know, McGonagall semi-offered me a job as the school’s potions master. I’m here for a final interview.”

Suddenly Minervra’s offer of teaching defense wasn’t as exciting as it had been this morning when a bucket of ice water had been dumped on Harry’s head.

“Does that mean you’d be moving back?”

Malfoy’s face went flat. “No, Potter, I’d floo in from France every morning.”

Ah, same old Malfoy.

“What have you even being doing in France?” Harry leaned forward, his body image mirroring how invested he was in the conversation. And he was, invested, that is. More than he realized. “I’m curious.” He took a sip of his drink.

“Well, for the most part I’ve been working for the French Ministry as a liaison.” He made a face. “Didn’t particularly like it, though.”

“So...teaching?”

To Harry’s surprise, Malfoy actually laughed a bit. “What, think I wouldn’t be good at it?”

“Can’t see it, no.” Harry was shocked to find that he was smiling back.

“Well, doesn’t that make me confident for my interview tomorrow?” He shifted, sitting up straighter now. Just like that, he looked so much more like he used to. “Honestly, it's been so long I’m not even sure I remember what Hogwarts looks like.”

“It has been seven years,” Harry laughed.

“Yeah, I was even already starting to forget what you looked like and I spent quite a lot of time staring at you.” Malfoy’s eyebrows went up at his own words and he looked away for a moment before schooling his features back into a passive state. It was like a slap in the face from the past.

“What’s up with that?” Harry asked before he thought about the words coming out of his mouth.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing it's just...” Oh, Harry felt like putting his head in his hands. Why was he so damn awkward? “When you sat down, things about you felt so different. Like the way you sat and the way you just....I don’t know! And then just like that,” Harry snapped. “It was back to the old Malfoy.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, not that that’s bad. It just....I’m going to stop talking.”

Malfoy pressed his lips together and gave a couple of slow nods. “Honestly, Potter, I’ve changed in the last seven years. I’m not the person you knew.” When Malfoy paused, his tongue flicked out and wet his lips. Harry’s eyes widened; the moment passed in slow motion and if he hadn’t been sitting down, he may have fallen. But then Malfoy was talking again and he had to shake himself out of this strange state. “It’s like being around you brings up so many aspects of my personality that I’ve tried to leave behind.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You’ve no idea.”

For a moment, the conversation lulled and neither quite knew what to do. It was the first pause, the first time either truly stopped to think about what was happening. Were they sitting and sharing a drink? Catching up on the past like they were old friends?

Malfoy cleared his throat. “So, uh...how’s Ginny?”

“Actually, we broke up.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Malfoy said but nothing about it said that he was sorry. “I mean, not that I’m that surprised; I was gone for seven years.”

Harry blew out a breath. “We broke up last week.”

“Oh, shit. You two were together for a while then.” Harry’s eyes were fixated on the table, as he was feeling incredibly awkward, so he missed the blush that began to rise on Malfoy’s cheeks.

“It’s fine; we had only been dating for about a year this time and it clearly wasn’t going to work out. Should have remembered why we broke up the first time.” Harry looked up, running a tough hand over his face. “Really, it’s whatever. Not like she broke up with me to date Pansy Parkinson or anything.”

At the mention of Pansy, Malfoy choked abruptly on his drink, his hand flying to hit his own chest as he attempted to recover.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Harry asked, a hand reaching out instinctively.

“I—it’s fine,” Malfoy said, but his voice was a tad raw. He cleared his throat and looked up to Harry. “I’m sorry, did you say Ginny is dating _Pansy Parkinson_?”

That’s when it clicked for Harry why Malfoy had such an intense reaction. “Hey! Our exes are dating each other.”

Malfoy put a hand out, his brows knit together in confusion. “I never dated Pansy.”

It took a long second for Harry to process that information. No, that was wrong. They dated. They definitely dated. Harry clearly remembered...on the train sixth year. Weren’t there other things? They dated. They definitely dated. “What do you mean you didn’t date Parkinson?”

“I mean, we did. not. date.”

“But—ah—You. I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Okay, Potter, let me break this down for you. She is a _lesbian_ and I am a _gay male._ When you combine sexualities in that way they are mutually exclusive.”

Well. Now Harry’s brain was on a whole new rollercoaster. Because all of this made great sense when you put together the Parkinson thing and the Greengrass thing and not to mention all of that—

Holy fucking mother of Merlin.

Harry was aware that he was sitting with both of his arms out and his eyes wide, staring off into the distance like he was absolute batshit high but this was a game changer. This was a bring-the-train-to-a-full-stop kind of situation because that was the most unbelievable realization that Harry had made ever since he learned he was a fucking wizard.

He had a crush on Draco Malfoy.

Actually, not only _does_ he have a crush on Draco Malfoy, but he was fairly certain that he had a crush on Draco Malfoy when they were back at Hogwarts. And by that he meant at _least_ third year. At least.

One of his hands moved to cover his mouth and he was so fucked out on this realization that he gave no consideration to the man sitting across from him.

Holy shit, how many times had Harry woken up thinking about Draco’s arms wrapped around him when he saved him from the fiendfyre? He had always thought he was being strangely aroused because he had a hero complex? But, no. It was just Draco Malfoy.

And didn’t that come with a whole other realization? One that made nearly everything in his love life just make sense (except Cho. Nothing explained that disaster).

Bisexuality. What an amazing gig.

He met Draco’s eyes, fully recovered now. “Sorry. I was just a little...confused. I could have sworn you were dating Parkinson.”

“Nope. Never happened.”

“And Astoria Greengrass?”

“Rumors.” Draco smiled and it was warm. To Harry’s horror, it was like his heart stuttered. Would it have been that way before he had understood all of this? Would he just not have noticed it? What was all of this?

“I am super unobservant.”

Draco laughed at that, his eyes crinkling alongside his smile. Harry’s heart could have melted and honestly? Fuck that feeling. “You’ve always been unobservant.”

“I literally stalked you sixth year and I couldn’t even get right who you were _dating_.”

“What do you mean you stalked me sixth year?”

Oh shit. “To be fair, you not noticing makes you almost as oblivious as I am. I followed you around so much.”

“Seriously?” Again, Draco laughed. “Teenagers are wild.” He took a sip of his drink and almost choked again. “Fuck, I’m going to be teaching those crazy fuckers.”

“See? That’s exactly why I’m not teaching there.”

Harry took a casual swig of his drink, stopping when he noticed the look on Draco’s face. “What?” Harry asked.

“Did you say something about you teaching at Hogwarts?”

A little embarrassed now, Harry raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Every year Minerva offers me the defense position. It’s still sort of cursed, you know. They haven’t been able to find a teacher that lasts more than a year. But, I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’d be a good teacher.”

“I heard you did pretty well teaching Dumbledore’s Army.”

“You know about that?”

“Potter, the whole school knew. Everyone that wasn’t an idiot, that is. And just so you know, literally every other fifth year would have joined and not snitched. We all hated Umbridge and wanted to pass our OWLs. What a bitch that woman.”

“Even you?” Harry asked.

“Sorry?”

“You said every other fifth year would have joined and not snitched. Even you?”

Draco set his glass down, his face becoming unreadable once more. “Potter, you need to understand that a lot of the things you thought were true about me are not. A lot of what I did, I did because I had to do. Except for most of what happened the first couple years. Especially all the remarks about the Weasleys—that was just ignorance. But once we got into the _shit_ I was just fighting for my life. I swear that I—“

“Hey.” Harry reached out and laid a hand across the back of Draco’s, which was resting on the table. “You don’t have to explain to me. It was war. You had Voldemort—“ Draco’s face gave a violent flinch at the name. If any had an excuse to still be afraid of the word itself, it was him. “You had him living in your house. I’d have done the same thing. You don’t have to explain to me.”

“Thank you,” Draco said quietly.

It was in the silence that followed that Harry took note of the fact that his hand was still lying atop Draco’s. He pulled it back all too fast, as if he had been burned. The action earned him a strange look from Draco, but he didn’t comment.

“It’s getting late,” Harry said. “I don’t want to keep you; your interview’s probably early tomorrow.”

“It actually is, thank you. You’re right. I should be going.” Draco made a move to stand and Harry did so at the same time, ending with them standing a mere few inches apart. Harry’s mouth went dry in that split second when Draco hesitated. But then, he took a step back, offering Harry a small smile before starting to walk away.

“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry called after him. The blonde arched an eyebrow over his shoulder. “Tell me how the interview goes, yeah?”

Draco smiled. “I will. It was nice seeing you.” Without another word, Draco was out the door.

Holy shit.

Harry wasn’t near as drunk as he had expected to be at this time so he grabbed his coat and headed outside to an apparition point. From there, he took a moment to visualize in his mind the front door to his best friends’ flat and next thing he knew he was standing there.

Harry burst through the door, sufficiently startling both of his friends. “Breaking news!” He yelled.

Ron turned and gave him a look that said ‘what the hell, man?’ and Hermione yelped.

“Now, what I’m going to say initially is going to _seem_ like the big news but honestly I feel like the other thing I’m going to say is quite honestly a lot more revolutionary so just hold on, yeah?”

“Harry, what the hell?” Ron said. “We’re eating dinner!”

“This is breaking news, Ron!”

His best friend pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Alright. What is it, mate?”

“Okay, so, firstly I’m bisexual—“

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, clearly happy. “We’re so glad that you felt comfortable enough with us to—“

“What did I say about the initial thing sounding like the news but not actually being the important thing?” Harry asked, exasperated.

“Oh. Right, sorry. I just felt like that was important,” Hermione said.

“I know. And thank you. But, I realized this as a result of realizing something else. Now, Ron I need you take a deep breath and promise me that you aren’t going to hit me for this.”

Ron blinked a couple of times. “Harry, why would I hit you?”

“I have feelings for Draco Malfoy.”

The entire room seemed like someone had hit the pause button as both of his friends processed. Neither moved, neither spoke and minutes seemed to pass, time moving in agonizing slowness for Harry.

“I’m sorry,” Ron said. “But what the fuck? Malfoy? Ferret? Really?”

“Yes.” Harry wasn’t backing down from this. From the moment he realized it, he knew he would never forget it or doubt it.

“How did you even come to this conclusion? He’s in been in France for the last three years.”

“Actually,” Harry began. “I just ran into him. We had a drink together—“

“Well, fuck, are you two dating now or something?” Ron asked. Harry noted that Hermione was still looking off into the distance, blinking occasionally. He could practically see her working all of this out in her head.

“No. He’s back in town because McGonagall offered him a job teaching Potions and he’s here for an interview tomorrow. We talked for a little bit and through the conversation I found out he likes men and I realized what that was making feel and I just—“ Harry blinked, remembering that vivid feeling of only moments ago. “I had this epiphany that I have been bisexual for a long time and that I have a prevailing crush on Draco Malfoy.” He stopped, putting his hands on his hips. “Huh. And to think that this day started out so terribly....” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“Harry,” Hermione spoke up now. “I agree with you.”

Ron turned to her, his mouth hanging open. “What do you mean you agree?”

“I’m just saying that, looking back on it, many of Harry’s actions make more sense if you factor in him having feelings for Draco. And, if you think about him being bisexual it only fits into place a lot of other questions like why he used to stare at Oliver Wood and Cedric in that way that we would make fun of him for.”

Now, Ron’s eyes lit up and he pointed at Hermione excitedly. “Holy shit, you’re right! We had all these theories about Quidditch players but in actuality he just had a few crushes.” Ron crashed back in his chair and muttered, “Holy shit, that makes so much sense.”

“So what are you going to do, Harry?” Hermione asked, turning to him. “Are you going to ask Draco out?”

That was the moment the room began to spin. Just a tad. Just enough that he definitely had to sit down for a moment. He pulled a chair out from the table and flopped down in it. This was really happening.

“I think so,” he said, slowly lifting his head to look at Hermione. “If it turns out that he’s moving back around here, then I will ask him out. Especially because I had already decided earlier today—before seeing him—that I was going to take McGonagall’s job offer soon. I wasn’t sure if I would take it for this coming school year or try to make it one more year with the aurors but....I’m not sure anymore.”

He glanced over across the table to Ron, trying to gauge where he was with all of this. His best friend was sitting there, staring intently into space. Clearly processing, but his face was blank. Almost like he was so utterly befuddled with the situation that he didn’t have anything to think about it. It just wasn’t possible for him to consider this as a possibility.

It was fine, Harry figured. He would come around eventually. No matter how much he didn’t like Draco, Ron was still Harry’s best mate. He would acknowledge it at some point. It would be fine.

But the more Harry watched Ron stare off into the distance, the more he wasn’t quite sure.

He and Hermione sat there, both glancing over at Ron every now and then, anxious for him to say something. Between glances, they would share looks, Harry sending worried faces, Hermione returning with sympathetic ones. Where was this going? Ron had to be okay with it, right? They were best friends, after all.

After a long fifteen minutes, Ron blinked a few times and inhaled sharply before sitting up and glancing around him. “Harry,” he began, seriously. Harry’s heart sped up in his chest. This was too much; he couldn’t do it. He felt like he was going to vomit. “I have one request.”

“Anything,” Harry said immediately. He couldn’t lose his best friend. If this was going to come between them, he would just have to squash this years long crush.

“Don’t ever sit me next to Parkinson at any gathering of any sort. Not at the wedding or the reception or any children’s birthday parties or anything like that. I don’t want to be near Parkinson, alright? Got me?”

Harry blinked. Had he heard Ron right? Did this mean he approved? He had, after all, listed a lot of things. A lot of things Harry had never thought about. It was starting to launch him into panic for an entirely different reason when he snapped himself out of it, realizing Ron was waiting for him to respond.

“Of course. If I get him to date me and into wherever that may lead us, I will make sure you are never forced to sit next to Pansy Parkinson. It’s a reasonable enough request, I suppose.”

“Alright then,” Ron nodded. “How are you planning on asking him out? Did you make plans to see each other again?”

“Well, um....Actually, no.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Isn’t he hopeless?” He said to Hermione before turning his attention back to his best friend. “I think step one is talking to him, yes? Get together, have a good time, at the end you can arrange to meet again, but this time make clear that it’s a date. That’s all you have to do.”

“Wait,” Harry said. Something had just occurred to him. “You don’t think he’s dating someone already, do you?”

His friends thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think it’s likely,” Hermione said. “If he’s relocating from France to work at Hogwarts, then he would break off any relationship, most likely, unless it was very serious. I think you have a shot. Hey,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “I do occasionally work with Zabini down at the Ministry. I know the two have kept in contact over the years. I can talk to him about it.”

“No,” Harry rushed. “That’s not necessary.” But his two friends were already planning. Oh, he shouldn’t have gotten them involved, should he have? They were well meaning, but they would likely go overboard.

At least they were supportive of him, right?

__________

Harry walked quietly around Hogsmeade, trying not to draw attention to himself. He had made the decision: that day he had given his notice at the aurors department and had spoken to McGonagall about the Defense position at the school. She told him it was all his for the next year. Everything was set up. Now, Harry was actually considering moving to the small town, now that he had fewer commitments elsewhere. He typically flooed or apparated to see his friends anyway.

He was on a pathway out of town when something caught his eye at the edge of a building. It was Draco, and he was walking towards Harry.

With an open smile, Draco greeted him. “Hello,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.” They fell into step next to each other, continuing the way Harry had been going. “So, Minerva tells me that you will apparently be starting in the fall as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Why didn’t you tell me when we last spoke? You had mentioned it, but you kind of implied that she asked you and you said no.”

“Didn’t want to dissuade you from the Potions job,” Harry joked.

He had been expecting a scowl, a scoff, but instead Draco laughed. “No, really,” he said.

Harry shrugged. “I hadn’t really decided yet at the time. She’s been offering it for years; still can’t find anyone to take it for more than a year. I’ve been trying to throw myself into the aurors but, honestly, I find less reasons to stay each day.”

Draco gave him a curious look. “Oh? Why is that?”

Grimacing, Harry squirmed a tad. “I don’t know. Lots of things. Paperwork is boring, being in duels gives me war flashbacks, I hate the Ministry....Things like that.”

“You hate the Ministry?”

“Honestly, I have ever since Fudge was still Minister.” He shrugged. “Just not sure I believe in their competence. Sorry, I know that you, uh—“

“Oh, no,” Draco waved a hand. “I am leaving, after all. Don’t you think there’s a reason for that?”

Well, yes, actually Harry had wondered about that. “Yeah, what is that reason?”

Now Draco looked like he didn’t quite want to say. “For the most part, I wanted to come back. France was getting stifling. I also realized that I only left to run away from my problems. That and I wanted to come back because the French Ministry is just...chaotic and I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

They continued walking down the lane, neither paying attention to where they were headed, as the conversation continued. In the back of his mind, Harry marveled at how easy it was. Eventually, they had somehow circled back into town.

“Well,” Draco said. “I should probably be on my way. I’ll leave you to it, then, Potter.”

Harry nodded, stopping where he was for a moment as Draco went off ahead of him. Then, he blinked harshly, snapping himself out of the trance he was in. What was he doing? He couldn’t let him just walk away.

“Wait, Draco!” Harry called, lunging forward, arm outstretched.

He paused, turning to look over his shoulder at Harry.

“Do you want to...maybe, get dinner? Sometime?”

Time hung heavy in the air, palpable, before Draco smiled and said, “Sure, Potter. Owl me,” and turned to continue on his way.


	2. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another chapter featuring Harry "Trainwreck" Potter

Harry fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. He was second-guessing every single thing about this.    
  
He was seated at a table in a muggle restaurant. It wasn’t too fancy, but it was clearly the kind of place that you would take a date rather than an old friend. Then again, he and Draco couldn’t even be considered “old friends.” If Harry had misread the situation, it would be all too clear and would make for a very...awkward encounter.    
  
(Not to mention an awkward  _ every day _ once classes started. Why did he think asking out a future coworker would be a good idea?)   
  
And, for that matter, why had he not made it more clear that this was, in fact, a date?    
  
Just then, he heard the hostess coming around, leading Draco up to their table. Harry sat up straighter than he was before, trying to will his hands to calm down and sit in his lap like a normal person.    
  
Draco nodded politely to the hostess, sitting down with a flourish. He said something to Harry, but apparently Harry’s brain was too broken to process. Malfoy was wearing a crisp, white button-down that framed him  _ just like a button down should for someone with his build _ . And, his sleeves were rolled up halfway up his forearms.    
  
Sure, that meant that the edge of his Dark Mark was peeking out from underneath his sleeve, but Harry was too focused on the rest of his forearms to even care too much. Besides, Draco probably thought it was alright because they were in a muggle establishment; he probably hardly ever rolled up his sleeves outside of his home.    
  
“Potter?” Draco asked again, snapping Harry out of his own mind. Fuck, he was  _ sure _ he was blushing. This wasn’t going well. He could put his head in his hands.    
  
“Did you even hear me?” Draco asked.    
  
Well, honestly is the best policy, Harry thought. “No. I did not,” he said.    
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. “I asked why you wanted to have dinner.”    
  
Shit. That was exactly the question Harry didn’t want to have to answer. Couldn’t Malfoy just put the pieces together on his own and find out this was a date?    
  
“I, um,” Harry began. “You know, I just figured that you and I should get together because....”    
  
_ Because what because what?  _ Harry thought desperately. What was he supposed to say?    
  
“Well, you know.” Harry smiled at the pause, trying to make this less awkward and surely failing. “We’re going to be working together next year and, uh, we have a bit of...history...and I just thought we should....”    
  
This was going terribly.    
  
He decided to just stop, smiling and nodding as if that was the end of the sentence.    
  
Draco looked him directly in the eyes, head tilted in a thoughtful expression with a smile playing on his lips. “Potter,” he said carefully. “Is this a date?” But he asked like he already knew.    
  
Harry, however, burst out in nervous laughter, his hands coming out in a dismissive gesture. “Why would this be a date?” He asked, his voice unnecessarily high.    
  
“Well, when we talked over drinks and I mentioned outright that I’m gay, it seemed to have broken your brain. I didn’t think there was much there in the first place, but it seems there sure isn’t now.” He was still smiling and Harry decided to take that as a good sign.    
  
“Oh that? No, I just—“ Harry cut himself off abruptly, eyes widening when he realized he was about to confess that Draco’s declaration had made him realize his own bisexuality.    
  
“Just what?” Draco needled, still smirking.    
  
Then, as if sent  _ from the heavens _ , their waitress showed up to the table, looking a little frazzled.    
  
“I am so sorry for the wait,” she began. “Have we decided what we’ll be drinking this evening?”    
  
Before Harry could even begin to think about her question, Malfoy smoothly ordered a glass of wine for each of them. The waitress nodded and was on her way.    
  
“Well, Malfoy. Been here before?”    
  
“Actually, yes,” Draco said. “I’ve been here on a date.”    
  
That didn’t make sense. “I thought you just recently got back into town?”    
  
“I didn’t tell you how recently.”    
  
Suddenly back on his conversation game now that the topic was away from him, Harry leaned forward. “Does that mean you have a boyfriend?”    
  
“Merlin, Potter, it’s only been a couple of weeks. It was two dates. One happened to be here. Why so interested? If this isn’t a date then my relationship status wouldn’t matter, would it?”    
  
How was Malfoy so damn good at this? Harry had really drawn himself into a corner, hadn’t he?    
  
“Alright, fine,” Harry said. “If it was?”    
  
“Are you really going to play that game? The whole ‘what if’ so that if I don’t give a good answer you can backtrack and pretend you hadn’t admitted that this is, in fact, a date?”    
  
Now Harry was just damn frustrated. “Okay, fine, Malfoy. It’s a date. Happy?”    
  
“No.”    
  
The one single word brought Harry to a pause, his heart stilling for a moment. It was strange, though, because Draco was still smiling. Always smiling like he had all the answers, all the cards.    
  
“Why not?”    
  
He shrugged. “I just tend to not enjoy dates where the man taking me on said date doesn’t even use my proper name.”    
  
“Oh, you arse,” Harry laughed. To his surprise, Draco laughed along with him. “Fine, Draco. Can we move on, then?”    
  
Smiling, Draco nodded.    
  
And to Harry’s surprise, the evening went surprisingly smooth. He made Draco laugh far more times than he would have thought and by the end of the night he found it quite charming the way Draco would raise an eyebrow at him when he was unsure of something Harry had said. In fact, when they were finally getting ready to leave, Harry realized that this was—by far—the best date he had ever had.    
  
They exited the restaurant together, stepping out into the night. Just outside the door, both stood for a moment, rocking on their heels, neither wanting to be the one to say goodnight. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders and pressing his lips together. At least this was the most awkward moment of the night so far.    
  
Draco cleared his throat and Harry looked up.    
  
“I’ll walk you to the apparition point?” He asked, a hesitant smile appearing. Something in his eyes betrayed a vulnerability Harry hadn’t thought that self-assured Malfoy would have ever had.    
  
“I’d like that,” Harry said.    
  
Together, they set off down the sidewalk, both kind of remaining in the awkwardness for a while. It was as if they hit a snag and now all of the earlier doubts were crashing in.    
  
Part of Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. He was on a date with Draco Malfoy? If only his eleven year old self could see him now.    
  
Oh, he would be horrified.    
  
Surely, eleven year old Draco Malfoy would have felt the same way. And all of that just made him remember everything that was different about them. All of the things that had kept them apart in the past.    
  
Harry shook his head, willing all of those thoughts away. It was that kind of thinking that would ruin this relationship before it even began.    
  
“I had fun tonight,” Harry said softly.    
  
Draco looked up, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You did?” He asked. A soft pink was settling on his cheeks, but it may have been the heat. Surely it wasn’t Harry making him blush.    
  
“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “I did.” After an awkward pause in which Harry wanted to slap himself, he said, “Did you?”    
  
“Actually, Harry, I did.” Draco didn’t look at him as he spoke, but Harry saw the smile anyway.    
  
“I’d like to do this again sometime,” he said quietly.    
  
Now, Draco did glance up, his eyes meeting Harry’s for a brief moment. “I would too.” They stopped, turning towards each other.    
  
Anticipation built in Harry’s chest. The way they were standing there, looking at each other, felt like it was on the verge of the kiss. So close. Like he could just—   
  
“Well, this is the apparition point,” Draco said, pressing his lips together and rocking on his heels a tad.    
  
“Oh,” Harry said. “Right.” Of course. How could he have been so stupid as to think Draco had wanted to kiss him?    
  
But still, his heart held out hope. Because this wasn’t just any first date, was it? They had been circling for years. This was so much more than a first date: it was a confession.    
  
Draco hadn’t made a move to leave, either. He kept glancing around, hands in his pockets, looking awkward for once in his life. He glanced at Harry, smiling and laughing just a little. Harry found himself laughing back.    
  
Once more, Draco pressed his lips together, his eyes darting down to Harry’s lips in a clear sign that he wanted to kiss them.    
  
“Well, uh,” Draco said. “See you later?”    
  
“Yeah,” Harry nodded. They both stood for a second longer before Draco nodded and mumbled a goodbye, apparating away.    
  
Harry immediately slapped a hand against his face. What had he been  _ thinking _ ? Draco’s body language had made it  _ so clear _ that he wanted to kiss him and he just? Didn’t? Why didn’t he go for it? It would have been amazing. But now, he had missed his chance.    
  
Why was he so terrible when it came to relationships?    
  
He apparated off, straight into Hermione and Ron’s living room.    
  
Hermione jumped, her hand coming to her chest as she shrieked. Ron jumped too, cursing from his place on the cough next to his wife as he almost spilled his wine.    
  
“What the fuck, Harry?” Ron asked.    
  
“Sorry. Just got done with my date with Draco.”    
  
Ron fixed him with a glare. “While I am happy for you, I would really appreciate if you would stop bursting into our home unannounced.”    
  
“Again, sorry,” Harry said.    
  
“It’s alright, Harry,” Hermione told him. “Well, come on. We want to know everything. How did it go?” She looked hopeful for the most part, but her tone betrayed that she didn’t think so.    
  
_ Right _ , Harry thought. She probably said it like that because Harry was looking quite dejected at the moment.    
  
“It was amazing,” Harry began. “Probably the best date I’ve ever had. We just clicked so well and everything fit together. It was probably because it was like so much more than a first date. We’ve both obviously had feelings for each other for a while that were just never expressed and it just...it all went so well. Until right up at the end.”    
  
“Oh, no. Harry, what happened?” Hermione asked.    
  
“Well, he walked me to the apparition point and we both stood there very awkwardly after saying what a nice time we had and how we want to do this again and then he was giving me all the signs to kiss him and I didn’t.”    
  
“Why the fuck not?” Ron asked, his arms coming out to the sides.    
  
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know! I just—I waited too long. Then he left.”    
  
“Are you going to go on a second date?” Hermione asked.    
  
“We both said that we would like to. Don’t know when I’m gonna ask him out again, though. It looks like I have the next few weeks fairly busy as they’re my last weeks at the auror department.”    
  
Ron nearly choked on his wine. “Sorry, what?” He asked.    
  
“Oh, did I not tell you? I put in my notice. I just felt like everything was so clear. I wasn’t happy there and, looking back, I don’t think I ever was. So, I took the defense job that McGonagall offers me every year. I’ll be starting in September.”    
  
Both of this friends looked at him evenly for a moment. He had expected them to be happy.    
  
“What?” He asked.    
  
“Working at Hogwarts,” Ron said.    
  
“Yeah.”    
  
“Where Malfoy works.”    
  
Oh, now Harry understood. He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t make the decision because of him. He may have got me thinking of it more seriously, yes, but every day for the last two months I’ve come home from work and thought about quitting. It’s been a long time coming. I’ll admit that I couldn’t ignore him as a factor once I found out but I had already been seriously considering it.”    
  
Ron looked skeptical but simply said, “If you say so,” and luckily let the conversation drop.    
  
“Anyway, what am I supposed to do? Why am I stupid? Why didn’t I kiss him?”    
  
Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before she spoke up. “Did you make plans to meet up again?”   
  
Harry groaned. “We just stupidly said ‘see you later’ and left. What the hell?” Moving to the side, Harry crashed down in an armchair. “Why am I the  _ worst _ at relationships? Meanwhile, he’s been back in town for a few  _ weeks _ and has already had two dates not including me. And he’s so smooth with his words, always talking me into corners and such....Damn, why haven’t I realized before how attracted to him I am?”    
  
Quietly, Hermione said, “If I’m being all that honest it didn’t come as that much of a shock to me.”    
  
Harry met her eyes. “Seriously?”    
  
She shrugged.    
  
After a moment, Ron spoke up. “Look. I don’t think I’m still 100% on board with this whole Malfoy thing but if this is what you’re going for then okay. But, I will say this: you don’t need us to analyze your every move and please start knocking. Now, if you would be so kind as to go home, my best friend, that would be much obliged.”    
  
Looking back and forth between his two friends, Harry blinked after a moment, taking in all that was around him. The wine, the music, the candles. His face lit up understanding. “Oh, shit, you two were gonna fuck! Sorry, I—“   
  
“Harry!” Hermione yelled, immediately blushing.    
  
Standing up, Harry walked over to the floo. “I’ll just be on my way then,” he said, taking a bit of floo powder and making his way home in a matter of seconds.    
  
Back in his flat now, Harry stumbled out of the fireplace. The first thought in his mind was that he needed to fix this.    
  
In his defense, the date hadn’t been bad until that point. It was just one tiny thing that he had done and it truly shouldn’t bother him so much. It hadn’t even ruined the date! But, still. Harry flopped into a chair.    
  
He should have kissed him.    
  
Not because of some strange, unspoken rule or anything but simply because he  _ wanted _ to and he wanted Draco to know how he felt about him.    
  
With a jolt, Harry realized that he didn’t just want to go on a date with Draco. He wanted to...date Draco. As in,  _ date _ . Boyfriends. A relationship.    
  
He knew he had to have a plan. Step one was getting Draco to go out with him again or simply spend more time with him. The only question was...how?    
  
Surely he couldn’t wait long enough for what would be the perfect opportunity to see him: work. Because that was  _ months _ away. And it wasn’t as if he could just wander around Hogsmeade until he bumped into him again.    
  
Of course, yes, Harry had owled Draco for their last date and all but that clearly wasn’t the point here. He needed to have an interaction that at least  _ seemed _ authentic. That way, neither of them would feel like it was forced.    
  
As Harry saw it, he didn’t have that many options. It wasn’t like he knew the places that Draco frequented in order to just  _ casually _ be there at a time when Draco would also be there.    
  
Harry paused, thinking it over for a minute.    
  
Okay, maybe he was just a little scared to send another owl.    
  
Maybe he was over analyzing this entire thing too much.    
  
Because now that he thought about it,  _ was _ the date truly as great as he had thought it had been? They had already been over the fact that Harry was the most oblivious so maybe he was just not paying attention enough.    
  
Shaking his head, he grabbed his mobile and decided to call someone who would surely cheer him up on the matter.    
  
The dial tone rang only twice before she picked up, her voice cheery. “Harry! What a lovely surprise!” Luna said. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was beginning to worry that the grillowinks had gotten to you.”    
  
Harry has no idea what grillowinks were, so he decided to just move on with the conversation. “Yeah, sorry, Luna. I’ve been meaning to catch up but I’ve been a tad busy lately. Just got back from a date, actually.”    
  
“Ooh,” Luna said. Harry could hear some sort of buzzing in the background as she continued talking. “With who?”    
  
“Actually, uh...Draco Malfoy.”    
  
To Harry’s surprise, Luna didn’t sound at all shocked with this information. Instead, she said, “Oh, yes. That makes perfect sense. Was the date magical?”    
  
Harry laughed a little bit. “I think it may have been. Luna, I think I really like him.”    
  
“Well, I’m sure he likes you too. Was that your first date, then?”    
  
“Yup. I think I may have messed it up, though.”   
  
“Oh, Harry. I’m sure you didn’t. In fact, I’m having lunch with Draco the day after tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll be so excited to talk about how fantastic your date was.”    
  
Harry smiled, thankful for his friend. “Enough about me,” he said. “What’s going on in your life? What’s happening with these grillowinks you mentioned?”   
  
“Well, they’re in the same family as wrackspurts—they can mess with your head a bit, just in a much nastier way. Don’t want to get too close to those. And, Harry, I’m so glad you asked about them because I’ve been trying to convince the auror department that they’re a serious issue. Maybe you could help me with getting them to...”    
  
As Harry listened to Luna talk, he felt much more comforted in all manner of things. He truly did have wonderful friends.


	3. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******PLEASE READ******
> 
> I changed the timeline. It had originally been only three years after the war, but I didn’t want any of the Hogwarts kids to have been at Hogwarts during the war so we are now seven years after the war. That means that the students that will be seventh years in the fall when Draco and Harry start teaching were first years when Draco, Harry, etc. were in their eighth year. I have changed everything in the past two chapters (at least I think if you catch anything relating to this timeline that I hadn’t fixed, please tell me). Also, because changing this timeline would have meant that Harry and Ginny had been dating for seven years and Harry could not move on that fast after that long of a relationship, I made it their second breakup (there was time between the first and second part so basically Harry and Ginny had only been dating for about a year this time.) 
> 
> If there are any questions, please ask!!

Draco could have buried his head in his hands.

See you later? _See you later?_

And he didn’t even fucking kiss him! Every single part of Harry’s body language was screaming ‘kiss me!’ and Draco did nothing with that information.

Oh, and how he had wanted to kiss Harry. He had looked so good tonight in that casual muggle attire that Draco admired so damn much—robes were nice, yes, and say what you want but could anyone deny a man in a simple, white tee like the one Harry was wearing? No. Not when a man like Harry—with all his muscles good _Merlin_ that man’s muscles—was wearing that almost too tight shirt that showcases his torso so well that Draco’s mouth went dry.

It wasn’t his style at all, of course, and he could never pull off that causal sort of wear but they were just very different people, is all. And it just so happened to be that everything about Harry that Draco wasn’t, Draco was attracted to.

Like that hair. Harry Potter probably had no idea how fucking sexy his hair was. Always looking like he had just rolled out of bed after lazy, Sunday-morning sex or something like that.

And that smile. So casual, so bright. It was like a warm glow set off inside the entire restaurant.

Everything about them seemed to be an opposite. And Draco wanted it all. Fuck, he wanted it all.

But that didn’t exactly mean he could have it.

Because at the end of this, through all of it, they were still Harry and Draco. And that didn’t even consider everything that was going to happen when the goddamn press found out.

Draco crashed down in an armchair in his flat, thinking about all of this. Was he really pursuing a...relationship with Harry Potter? Harry James Potter? The same man from his childhood?

Well, Draco would argue it wasn’t the _same_ man. And, to that end, _he_ wasn't the same man, either. They had both changed. It was clear in the way Harry's shoulders slumped when he talked about his work with the aurors, so opposite of how he used to be hell-bent on joining them. Not to mention that he wasn't as uptight as usual. Then again, Draco would probably be the only person to have ever described Harry Potter as uptight. It was just that, back during the war, the stress played clearly across his features. His shoulders were always so tight, brows knit as he would stare off into space, jumpy and easily upset.

Eighth year hadn't been much different, either. But they were all like that, somewhat, eighth year. Recovering from a war affects children. The press always seemed to forget that, whether they were praising Potter or dragging Draco through the mud.

So, Draco supposed that maybe it could work. Because they were no longer Potter and Malfoy, were they? No. Now they could be Harry and Draco and maybe that could be something else entirely.

But it was so much more to think that Harry was also going to be working at Hogwarts next year.

Draco shook his head. He wished he would have known about that earlier. When McGonagall first offered him the job, he had been hesitant because he was uncertain what kind of memories being at Hogwarts would bring up. Especially because he knew that Longbottom was the professor of herbology there and all that shit. But now that Harry was going to be there? Fuck, it would almost be like he was back in the war.

Alone in his flat, Draco slid up his sleeve in the safe space and took a long, hard look at the mark on his arm. He was at Hogwarts when he took that and, over the last seven years, whenever he thought about the school, the Dark Mark and the Battle of the Astronomy Tower were generally the first things that would come to mind.

He didn't know if he could ever go into that tower again.

With a sharp shake of his head, Draco pulled the sleeve back down. He knew he shouldn't torture himself with starting at it, but he always fell into that whenever he was feeling guilty. He would stare at the Dark Mark, think about the pain it had caused him and the difficulty it still brought him socially, and lose himself in guilt, thinking that he deserved it. After all, it wasn't like a Death Eater earned their Dark Mark by just asking for it. You had to do something. And Draco....Draco let them all in. He caused the death of—

No. This was exactly what he was trying to stop himself from doing. The war ended seven years ago. Why couldn't he convince himself to let it go? The rest of the world seemed to have moved on. Harry Potter walked around looking like he didn't have a care in the world. That was probably a result of knowing that there wasn't some batshit racist out to kill him. Why couldn't Draco jump on that train with everyone else? Why couldn't he seem to get the Dark Lord's face out of his head?

He just wanted to focus on his life now, dammit. It was going so well, too. Not only did he have a good paying job lined up, but he had just gone on a date with Harry Potter. And he couldn't take a moment to just be happy about that?

The date had gone well (up until that last no-kiss bit), Draco would admit. He even made Harry laugh a couple of times. Most of the time it felt good, but there were a couple of moments when that same guilt would creep in and seeing Harry happy would hurt. Not because he wanted him to be anything but happy, but because he felt like it was his fault that this hadn't all happened sooner. It was like after the war everyone had to train themselves to be normal again.

Well, at least they succeeded.

At least Draco made them all think he did, too.

Despite the nice tone of the night so far, Draco could feel it getting worse by the moment and while he was sort of hoping that he could fall asleep and dream about a certain pair of green eyes, he was a little afraid that a pair of red ones would creep up and cause him to wake up screaming so he stood and crossed the room.

Attached to the wall was a cabinet of potions Draco had brewed himself, for himself, and to be used by no one else. Some were normal potions, some were common potions just brewed a hell of a lot stronger than most would need, and there was the occasional gem in the mix that Draco had slaved over for months. He was quite good at potions, he would say so himself, which was probably why he was offered a job teaching them.

It seemed like a strange sort of fit, Draco teaching children. Not only that, but there was one other thing that Draco had neglected to mention to anyone else—even Harry on their date: McGonagall wanted him to be head of Slytherin house.

While it was unorthodox for a new teacher to be head of house, they didn't have anyone else for Slytherin house. Apparently, McGonagall had been stepping in for the last two years and she desperately needed someone. When the potions job became open, she said that she immediately thought of him for multiple reasons.

Draco had assumed she meant his potions ability and the fact that he was a Slytherin, but there was more to it than that, as she had said. And what McGonagall told him was actually what made him take the job in the first place.

She said that he would be able to relate to the struggles of the Slytherin students in a way that other teachers could not provide. Most of them were stereotyped for their house. McGonagall even said that every year at Sorting, the first year Slytherins would cry and none of the older Slytherins would cheer. It was heartbreaking.

If anyone understood being treated like shit by the wizarding world when he was a mere child, it was Draco. He would walk down a damn street and every witch and wizard he passed would look at him like he was scum on the bottom of their shoe. And maybe he deserved it, yes. He did bear the Dark Mark, after all. But these little eleven year olds? No. No, that was not the Hogwarts Draco knew.

So that was why he took the job. His own demons could haunt him however much they liked, but they shouldn't continue on to follow some poor kids. That was unacceptable. It was Draco's responsibility to right his wrongs and he would start with those that it was still affecting today. He would start with these kids.

But, for now, he reached into his private potions cabinet and picked out a bottle of dreamless sleep, of which he had many. Without a second more to consider it, he took it and promptly went to bed.

  
Not hours later, Draco jolted awake in a panic, fear gripping his chest. He flailed, grabbing at what he could until he realized he was in his room, in his flat, in his bed. He was safe.

Sitting up now, he folded his legs beneath him and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. The dreamless sleep wasn't working anymore. He had been taking it too often, building up a resistance. When this had happened in the past, he would simply brew a stronger batch, but if he did that again it would be dangerous. Which meant that he would now have to wean himself off of it and that was going to be hell.

Fucking hell.

He tried to remember what exactly had woken him up, and it took him a second, the memory foggy in his mind. But after a few moments of struggling he saw it clearly: the fiendfyre.

Quickly, Draco stopped, fisting his hands in the sheets, eyes wide open, and began narrating out loud to himself. "I am in my flat. I am in Hogsmeade. I am in bed. I am safe. I am twenty-four years old. The war is over. I am safe from the feindfyre. I am safe from the feindfyre. The war is over. I am safe from the feindfyre."

Once his heart rate calmed down, he began breathing again, trying to slow it, relax a bit. There were certain memories that would crop back up again and again to haunt him, and the feindfyre was always one. It had been one of the scariest moments of his life and he would have died if Potter hadn't been there.

That's when he remembered: Harry. Groaning, he fell back onto his pillow, his thoughts somewhere else entirely now. How was he supposed to date Harry when he was still dealing with all of this shit? It wasn't exactly fair to Harry, was it? He deserved someone who didn't come with so much baggage, or at least didn't have a trunk clearly labeled "Harry Potter."

But Draco couldn't have anything easy in his life, could he? Not a simple relationship with a nice man. No. It had to be Potter.

And that was what he was realizing: it had to be Potter, didn't it?

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Draco turned over on his side, stuffing an arm under his pillow and trying to get comfortable. Tried to shut off his brain and convince himself to actually get some fucking sleep. For once. Go figure.

But, of course, his thoughts now were stuck. On Potter. The little git couldn't get out of his head, could he? Not since he was eleven years old had he once been free from the plague that was Harry Potter.

His mind kept running circles about this relationship and all of the millions of ways things could end up going. What if it was over before it even began and then they had to work together? What if it was the opposite and they were dating while they were working together. What if—

Draco sat up straight in bed, a horrified look on his face.

If they were dating as coworkers...did that mean...that they had to....

Draco swore to Merlin if he had to sit in McGonagall's office and tell her that he was "seeing" Harry Potter, he would tie a few rocks around his ankles, charm them on, and then jump into the lake. Like fuck was he going to do that. Policy be damned. That was absurd. No. Absolutely not. It would be _humiliating_.

"Well, shit," he muttered, as he realized something else. Dating Harry Potter was going to be a lot of things like that. Probably a fair share of humiliating from the press, Harry's friends. He supposed he would just have to get used to it and try to get some _damned sleep._

Laying back down, he pulled the covers up around him and took a few deep breaths before dropping back into the dreaded world of dreams.

  
_The room that Draco was in was dark and he couldn’t quite make out what was happening. He could hear nothing, see nothing. But he could feel that he was sitting on something cushioned, like a sofa, armchair, or bed._

_Panic began to rise in him, his breath coming in short bursts. It was like the darkness was closing in around him, a pressure on his body. His mouth and throat were becoming dry as he panicked; it was always times like these, in the dark, that he was the most scared in the Manor. He never knew when Death Eaters would be coming or going and if he slept he would be vulnerable. If he was in the dark, he couldn’t see them coming._

_If he laid down and fell asleep, Nagini would—_

_Draco jumped as he felt an arm come across his chest, followed by a body coming to press up against his back, light breathing on his neck. Reacting on instinct, he jumped up, hand reaching for his wand immediately but not finding it anywhere. In the darkness, he groped around for it, but the room was an entirely different layout. This was not his room at the Manor._

_From the spot Draco had just left, he heard a voice say,_ “Lumos.”

_The lights flickered on to reveal Harry in his bed, curly hair sticking up in all directions, eyes squinting from the sudden light._

_In the brightness of the room, now, Draco took a look around, breathing out some of his panic. He was in his flat. He wasn’t even in the Manor._

_As he was beginning to realize this, Harry began to speak. “Draco,” he said. “It’s alright. You’re in your flat. The war is over. It’s been seven years. You’re twenty-four. It’s okay.” Slowly, Harry reached out his hand. “Will you come back to bed?”_

_Still cautious, Draco made his way back across the room before sliding beneath the covers, facing Harry. They lay with their heads on the pillows facing each other for a moment._

_“Are you okay?” Harry asked._

_After taking a breath, Draco nodded. “You can turn the lights off, now. If you want.”_

_Harry paused, glancing around them for a moment before looking back to Draco. “It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to be fine so quickly. You can take the time you need to recover.”_

_Draco rolled onto his back, groaning. “If you’re going to try and make me go see a therapist again—“_

_“Hey, hey.” Harry reached a hand out. “I’m not going to make you do anything. Now, if you wanted to see a therapist again, I would support that, but I’m not going to force you. All I ask is that if you’re not seeing a professional, that you at least talk about it.”_

_“Look, I know I’m not exactly at the same recovery point as everyone else seems to be but—“_

_“We’ve talked about this, Draco. You don’t need to be at some imaginary benchmark, you just need to be making progress.”_

_“Why do we have to fight about this?”_

_“We don’t have to fight,” Harry said, his voice still calm._

_“Can’t we just go to sleep?”_

_“I just want you to know that I care about you and that I want you to get better, whatever that means for you.” Leaning over, Harry kissed Draco’s cheek. “Goodnight, Draco.” With that, Harry slung his arm around Draco in the same way that had caused Draco to wake in the first place, before snuggling his face into Draco’s neck._

“Nox,” _Draco whispered and the lights flickered out._

In the dark of his room, Draco jolted awake. What the fuck was that? What was his subconscious trying to tell him with _that_ shitshow hmm??

Sitting up, he ran his hands down his face, sighing. Would this relationship with Potter even work out? What was he getting himself into?

After taking a moment to recover, Draco reached for his wand and cast a tempus. He didn’t have to be up for another two hours, but after the dreams he had had tonight? He particularly didn’t feel like risking it right now.

Slinking out of bed, he grabbed a jumper from the chair by the door and threw it on before making his way to the small kitchen. He threw open a few cabinet doors, grabbing a glass out of the first before pausing, trying to decide if he would need it or not. Eventually, he decided that foregoing the glass would mean he may have to consider admitting that he may be an alcoholic so he shut the door and moved over to grab a drink.

Because, fuck, did he need a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk bout y’all but as someone who dreams a lot i have random dreams like this all the time lol


	4. Late Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize in advance for how much back and forth this chapter is, but it's still p easy to follow so y'all should be fine i have faith in you lol

If he had to do another day of this, Harry was going to jump off a bridge. Which, he was pretty sure that would do something like kill him; he wasn’t going to be The Boy Who Lived Thrice. That would just be over the top. Although, as he saw it, The Boy Who Lived Twice was already too much. It needed to just stop.   
  
And that’s another thing: why did he ever decide to go into the aurors in the first place? Why had that seemed like a good idea? Of course, after spending years fighting off the most evil dark wizard of all time, he wasn’t all that scared of any of the other ones so he wasn’t really intimidated. But, if he was being honest, he was unfairly sold the ‘glamorous auror lifestyle’ speech. After all, he was only a child! How had everyone expected a bunch of _fourteen year olds_ to decide what they wanted to do for the rest of their life? That was too much and, of course, when they play it off like you’re going to be the badass wizarding police, it sounded really fun, the whole ‘catching bad guys gig.’ But most of them had had been Death Eaters and Harry had, well, already put them in Azkaban before he had even started working.   
  
Oh, and just for the record? That was shitty because now every Dark wizard of that caliber that he put in Azkaban, he got a bonus for so apparently there were retired aurors out there that had taken the bonuses for the work that Harry did. Because none of the Ministry’s aurors had done _shit_ during the war. Therefore, in Harry’s opinion, they didn’t deserve shit back. It was only fair. In other words, _where was his damn bonus for catching_ , hm let’s see, _all of Voldemort’s Death Eaters?_   
  
In other words, Harry was slumped at his desk filling out paperwork. At three in the morning. Such a thing tends to create displeased workers.   
  
In all honesty, it wasn’t even Harry’s fault. He had been stuck with a shit-ass partner about a year ago and he had been begging to be rid of him since two days after they were assigned together. He was just one of the most incompetent people that Harry and ever met in his life.   
  
And he had Umbridge as a teacher.   
  
Not only could the man never figure out _anything_ , he always insisted that his very incorrect way was the only correct way and that anyone who did anything differently was just wrong and stupid.   
  
It made Harry want to slap him. Curse him. Something.   
  
Probably something that was very childish and unprofessional, but still. The fucker deserved it.   
  
Deserved it because here Harry was, sitting in the auror office _alone_ —probably the only person in the damn _Ministry_ —and he was going back through and correcting all of Mr. Michael I’m Perfect’s work and it was taking him forever.   
  
Harry could only hope for the day that some poor new recruit pair got promoted so that Harry could shove this auror partner off on one poor kid and pair up with the other. He could only hope for that day.   
  
It was then that the beautiful thought struck him: he didn’t have to hope and wait for that day anymore because he would only be working for the aurors for another week. Another week!  
  
And, oh, that brought him back around to everything else that had been happening in his life. Specifically, the date he had had with Draco last week.   
  
The amazing date.   
  
Just thinking about it made a stupid smile cross his face but he didn’t care; he was, after all, alone.   
  
The more he had thought about it the last couple of days, the more he had realized that it was not only the best date he had ever had, but probably the best he ever would have. And for a moment, that made him consider just ending things there. Because if they didn’t continue, neither of them would ever be disappointed and let down or have to go through any sort of heartbreak. But then he had seen a flash of platinum blonde hair in the crowd one day and noted how fast his heart started beating, how his palms got sweaty, how he had started smiling—all in the first few seconds before he realized that it wasn’t even Draco.   
  
Jolting up, Harry realized that it had been a week since their date and he hadn’t reached out. Draco would probably think that he wasn’t interested. Then again, Draco hadn’t reached out either. Did that mean that he wasn’t interested? Because that would just be a heartbreak already.   
  
Because Harry was so interested.   
  
Oh, fuck, was he…interested.   
  
Standing up, he pushed the paperwork to the side. Sure, it had to be done by tomorrow morning, but why was Harry here doing it? It was Michael’s paperwork, but Harry had always fixed it because they would likely get in trouble as a pair. But what were they going to do, fire him? No, Michael could take the blame on his own.   
  
Instead, Harry reached for a blank piece of parchment and a quill. As he began to think of what to say, he started bouncing up and down on his toes, pacing around his desk as he thought. Starting was always the hardest part, he supposed.   
  
He could start with a, “Hey, Draco.”   
  
Yeah, that sounded good, so he wrote that at the top of the parchment and stopped, looking at it for a moment. As he stared and stared, he repeated it in his head, muttering underneath his breath, “Hey, Draco, hey, Draco, hey—Nope.”   
  
Crumpling the parchment up, he tossed it into the air, absentmindedly vanishing it with his wand. “Hey, Draco” was far too casual. Either that or it sounded like a "heeey, buddy, you doing alright?” kind of hey and that was probably the exact opposite of what Harry was going for here.   
  
Starting to bounce again, Harry continued to pace around the desk, stopping exactly when it hit him. He would say, “Evening, Draco.” Yes, that sounded so fancy, yet not formally detached. He was sure Draco would appreciate it. So, he wrote it at the top of the parchment.   
  
And then realized it was three in the morning. Not exactly evening and Draco likely wouldn’t even see it until he woke up. So not “evening.”   
  
Vanishing that piece of parchment as well, he debated doing the opposite, then. “Morning, Draco.” Well, that just sounded like they were coworkers that didn’t exactly like each other that much. And if Harry was ever going to be saying, “Goodmorning, Draco,” it was going to be either from his bed or Draco’s bed.   
  
Whoa, okay. Harry stopped pacing, standing there for a moment. He definitely needed to not picture Draco in his bed because that was just….Well, he would say that it was a little bit early in the relationship for that. After all, they had only been on one date. No one was even saying that Draco would even want that. It was far too early for that.   
  
That was when he realized exactly how to open his note to Draco.   
  
Reaching for the parchment, he wrote one single word at the top: Draco.   
  
Now for the hard part: the body. Immediately, Harry decided that was far harder than deciding how to open.   
  
He collapsed in his chair with a sigh and after a moment began bouncing his leg up and down.   
  
Well, Harry supposed he should start simple. That was the best way to go, right? And he should write from the heart. Honesty is the best policy. Everyone knows that.   
  
_I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you sooner. I enjoyed our time together last weekend and I was hoping I could see you again. Hopefully sometime soon? If you’re still interested, owl me back with when you’re available._   
  
Yeah, Harry thought that seemed reasonable. He signed it with his name and headed off to find an owl to send it with, not even caring that it was so late at night.   
  
__________  
  
There is always something to be said about three in the morning. Once you get past twenty-one, staying up that late just isn’t appealing. At least, that was the way it worked for Draco. The middle of the night is just not the time to be up.   
  
But being asleep was, in Draco’s opinion, far worse. Especially since the dreamless sleep was wearing off. So, instead he was sitting up, trying to convince himself not to drink and not to sleep.   
  
It was getting increasingly difficult by the minute.   
  
He was just starting to tip his head onto his hand when he jerked up at the sound of something against his kitchen window. Looking up, Draco saw that it was an owl. Wondering who would be owling him—especially at three in the morning—Draco stood to open the window and let the poor thing in, grabbing an owl treat from a container by the window.   
  
The beautiful tawny owl perched on Draco’s kitchen table and stuck out a leg that had a note wrapped around it. After Draco untied the note, the owl hopped up and back out the window without a moment’s hesitation, not even waiting to see if Draco would like to send a response.   
  
Sighing, Draco sat back down at the table stretching the piece of parchment open. He recognized the sloppy handwriting before he even read a word of what was written. Harry Potter’s writing was so distinct; there was no denying it was him.   
  
As he read, a slow smile spread across his face and Draco moved into the other room to grab parchment and a quill, as well as wake up his own owl. Because Draco was tired and didn’t really care enough at three in the morning, he just wrote:  
  
 _Shouldn’t the Golden Boy be in bed?_   
  
Then, he sat back to hear the response.   
  
__________  
  
It was nights like tonight that Harry enjoyed walking home. The Ministry honestly wasn’t that far from his flat and summer just made things feel so alive. While he was headed back home, a large, brown owl swooped down onto the branch of a tree right next to him and hooted at him. Curious, Harry stopped. Upon looking closer, Harry saw that the owl was holding out her leg with a note.   
  
After taking a quick glance around to make sure no muggles were watching, Harry untied the letter and was greeted with an elegant cursive.   
  
When Harry read the note _shouldn’t the Golden Boy be in bed?_ he laughed out loud, quickly realizing he didn’t have a quill on him at the moment to respond. He took a look around him as he backed into an alley to make sure no muggles were watching before apparating himself back to his flat.   
  
Once there, he began scrambling for a piece of parchment and a quill to write his response.   
  
__________  
  
Upon opening the note, Draco threw his head back and laughed. What, did Potter think he was going to fall for that? _I can’t get you out of my head._ What atrocious flirting.   
  
Nevertheless, Draco sat down at his kitchen table and poured himself a glass of wine while he constructed his response.   
  
__________  
  
Harry paced around his apartment, awaiting Draco’s response. Of course, Harry knew that owls weren’t the fastest method of communication and he found himself wondering how much it would take to teach Draco how to text. He figured not a lot. Especially if this relationship turned out to be a long-term thing, which Harry found himself actually kind of hoping for.   
  
He stopped, realizing he had been walking around with a small smile, daydreaming of texting Draco late into the night when he couldn’t be there with him, of them having an actual relationship. To be quite honest, it scared him some. His last relationship had ended in disaster and maybe working with Draco at Hogwarts would cause it to all implode. Maybe they were moving too fast.   
  
But, then again, how could they be moving too fast when they had only had one date and were just now talking for the first time since.   
  
Harry crashed down in an armchair. It was just all too confusing, wasn’t it? This relationship was unlike any he had ever been in before. Usually, when things start off, you’re excited but you can also sense boundaries so well. You know what it’s too soon for and you’re typically both feeling the same. It’s new, so you aren’t too comfortable yet.   
  
But this thing with Draco? Harry wanted to dive right in, headfirst. He wanted it all. The falling asleep together, the breakfasts together, the talking about their day, the causal laying around reading and watching films together.   
  
Then again, maybe it was because Harry had gotten out of his relationship with Ginny so recently and may have been experiencing latent feelings of being with someone in a serious relationship. And that was probably what scared him most because it would mean that Draco was still feeling like it was all new and Harry didn’t want to go too fast and scare him off. Maybe he even sent that letter too soon. And sending it so late at night? That was probably a broken boundary right there. They had only just started going out.   
  
His thoughts were broken into by the sound of his owl arriving back at his window.   
  
Harry let her in, untying the letter from her. Draco’s response read clearly across the page: _well, if you’re so desperate what’s taken you so long?_  
  
Okay, so maybe Draco felt it too?   
  
So, Harry decided fuck it. It was three in the morning, he was in desperate need of sleep, and he was beginning to lose his skills of good decision making. He was going to go for it.   
  
__________  
  
Draco was still sitting and waiting for Harry’s response when he was getting close to losing it. He was going to fall asleep, he just knew it. A man couldn’t stay awake this long, dammit! And how long would he have to go like this until he could take the dreamless sleep again?   
  
He let his chin rest on his hand, taking a bit of the weight off of his neck because his entire body was feeling so much heavier than usual. Then, he heard it.   
  
At first, he turned towards the window, expecting the knock to be from an owl. But then he saw that he had left the window open for the owl. So the knock came again and this time Draco realized it was coming from his door.   
  
Getting up, Draco walked down the hallway, wondering who could be knocking on his door at such a late hour. He didn’t even think to look through and see who it was; he simply opened it.   
  
Standing in his doorway was none other than Harry Potter.   
  
“Harry?” Draco asked, surprised and much more awake now. “What are you doing here?”  
  
In response, Harry shrugged. “You asked me why I was waiting and I didn’t know. So I figured, why wait any longer?”   
  
Draco smiled. He figured if Harry had shown up like this in the middle of the day, he probably would have been upset at him. But right now, it was strangely endearing.   
  
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Harry asked.   
  
His answer was instinctive. “Yes,” he said. All he knew was that he wanted to spend time with Harry and that he also didn’t want to sleep. “Would you like to come in while I go grab some shoes?”   
  
Harry laughed. “Yeah, thanks.” He walked in and Draco left him in the front of his flat, making his way back to his bedroom to find some shoes.   
  
When he came back, Harry was right where he had left him, rubbing his eyes.   
  
“Too tired, Potter?” Draco asked.   
  
“You wish,” Harry laughed.   
  
Draco grabbed his keys and they walked out of the flat, Draco following Harry’s lead down the stairs and out into the night.   
  
Street lamps lit their way as the two walked down the sidewalk, both unsure about how they were supposed to act.   
  
“Well,” Harry said, breaking the silence. “Why were you up so late?”  
  
Internally, Draco froze. He wasn’t about to tell Harry the real reason, which meant he had to come up with a lie and fast. It was too early in the relationship to dump all of his problems on Harry. In addition, Draco wasn’t even sure if it _was_ a relationship.   
  
“Couldn’t sleep,” he lied. “You?”    
  
“I hate my job.”   
  
“I assume that’s why you’re quitting?”  
  
“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “This is honestly fairly regular for me. My partner doesn’t do his paperwork right and it’s up to me to fix it because we would get in trouble as a pair. But, tonight, I just figured fuck it, you know? He can get in trouble. What are they going to do to me? I’m leaving anyway.”   
  
“Yes, you’re trading in chasing Dark wizards for managing unruly teenagers. Quite the exchange, Potter.”   
  
“At least I can give the kids detention.”   
  
“At least you could throw the criminals in Azkaban.”   
  
Harry laughed out loud at the joke, the sound seeming all too much in the quiet of the night. “Yeah, except for when they’re found innocent. That always really sucks.”   
  
The conversation lulled as they walked, Harry’s steps bringing him slightly closer to Draco. Their hands brushed against each other and Draco figured, fuck it, right?   
  
He reached out and took Harry’s hand, glad that Harry not only allowed him, but held his hand back.   
  
And so the two walked down the street like that, breathing in the silence and the company of the other, hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl if a man shows up unannounced at 3am he getting that door slammed in his face like who tf do you think you are lmao


	5. Early Mornings

Draco slid his key into the lock of his door, the small click as he turned it the loudest sound in the night.    
  
Or, rather, early morning as the sky was just starting to lighten to begin the day.    
  
Sneaking a quick glance over his shoulder at Harry, Draco opened the door, walking back into his home. The two had spent the last few hours wandering around the streets, just talking. And now that Draco's hands were alone they felt far too soft without Harry's callouses pressing against them.    
  
They stumbled into the apartment, limbs heavy with encroaching sleep and Harry slumped against the door, shutting it behind them. There was a lazy smile stretching across his face. In the quiet of the morning, Draco no longer felt the need to shy away from it.    
  
So he did what he should have done a week ago.    
  
And leaned forward.    
  
And kissed him.    
  
Harry's warm hands brushed against Draco's upper arms, gently pulling him closer and Draco reached up, his hands coming to cup Harry's face. Both were tired and it reflected in their kiss, lips moving slow and lazy. But neither felt the need to move away.    
  
Slowly, Draco trailed his left hand down Harry's neck, his fingers just barely brushing against Harry's skin, eliciting a shiver from the other man. He stopped when he reached the collar of Harry's shirt, however.    
  
Eventually, after minutes of the languid kiss, Draco pulled back just enough to look Harry in the eyes. And just like each time he looked at Harry, he wondered, did he even deserve him?    
  
Harry's hands remained on Draco's shoulders. He swallowed and Draco's eyes traced the bobbing of his Adam's apple.    
  
"I think we should sleep," Harry whispered, and the spell of the morning shattered.    
  
Taking a jilted step back, Draco nodded sharply. "Probably a good idea," he said, voice a normal volume but sounding far too harsh in the semi-darkness of his flat.    
  
He turned from Harry, starting to walk away. He wasn't going to take time to process that, dwell on it. He refused to. Because if he did, he would read far too into it, make it out to be Harry outright rejecting him and the kiss, by sleeping clearly meaning putting an end to their relationship.    
  
He didn't stop until he reached the kitchen, lying both palms flat on the counter in front of him. That was  _ exactly _ why he hadn't wanted to think about it. But he had already done that anyway, apparently.    
  
"Is everything okay?"    
  
Draco jumped at the sound of Harry's voice, having mentally assumed he would have left Draco by now. But he turned around and there Potter was, hair disheveled, eyes tired, leaning against the doorway to Draco's kitchen, a frown line between his brows.    
  
"Yeah, of course. Everything's fine. You're right. We should sleep."    
  
Leaning against the counter behind him for emotional support, Draco cataloged each of Harry's steps closer until Harry was directly in front of him.    
  
"Yeah," Harry said, but his eyes didn't stray from Draco's lips. "Yeah, we probably—should."    
  
Draco's breath caught.    
  
This time when Harry kissed him, his warm hands were possessive on Draco's neck, pulling him closer. All of Draco's body responded, pressing himself against Harry. And all of his worries disappeared as his mind blanked out with the deepening of the kiss.    
  
"I don't want to leave you," Harry said, whispering frantically against Draco's lips before diving back in for more.    
  
Draco took hold of Harry's wrists, holding on. He didn't want Harry to leave either, despite the inevitability.    
  
He pulled back. "There's always...." He began, intending to ask Harry to stay the night before realizing what he was saying and abandoning the sentence.    
  
Stupidly, he had forgotten that he couldn't sleep.    
  
Again, that little furrow was back between Harry's brows, turning them upward in the center, that little arch of worry.    
  
"What?" He asked, oblivious to the mental turmoil Draco was in.    
  
He turned his head to the side, unable to look Harry in the eyes as his throat tightened on his words. "You should probably....Go. You should probably go." But his hands shook against the counter.    
  
Harry's fingers were still lying comfortingly on the back of Draco's neck and they didn't move. "I'm sorry, I—“ Harry began.    
  
"It's okay," Draco said, far too quickly.    
  
"If I did something to—“   
  
"It's fine," Draco rushed out.    
  
"If I did something to make you uncomfortable it's not fine."    
  
Hesitantly, Draco's eyes found Harry's again. "It wasn't anything you did.”   
  
After a pause, Harry asked. "Was it something I didn't do?"   
  
Draco shook his head, laughing on an exhale. "No. You've done everything right."    
  
This time, the wrinkle in Harry's face wasn't concern, but confusion. "Was I moving too fast?"   
  
Eyes raking across Harry's face, Draco felt his heart sink. No. Not at all. Harry was the right amount of everything, all the time. It was all perfect. Draco had to be the one to fuck it up.    
  
And, shit, now he was struggling not to cry.    
  
"It's not your fault, Potter," Draco whispered, shoulders tightening in on himself as he tried to slip to the side, out of Harry's grip.    
  
Harry dropped his hands as if burnt by Draco's skin.    
  
"Potter?" Harry questioned, Draco already halfway across the kitchen.    
  
But that made him freeze.    
  
He spun around. He hadn't meant to—   
  
Draco's heart stopped. Because Harry didn't even look mad like Draco had expected. No, it was much worse; he was hurt.    
  
"I'm sorry, I—“   
  
Harry waved a hand. "It's nothing." But it clearly was.    
  
Draco tried again. "Look, I just—“   
  
"It's okay," Harry said softly, with a smile, as if that made it hurt any less. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I clearly must have overstepped earlier and didn't take a hint. I'll show myself out."    
  
As Harry began moving, Draco's mind panicked. Because as many times as he told himself he didn't deserve Harry that didn't mean he wanted him to walk away. As much as he knew that Harry deserved someone better, Draco just wanted to wrap tight until his knuckles went white and beg him not to go.    
  
"Harry, wait."    
  
Naturally, being such a kind person, Harry turned, eyes open and vulnerable. Draco ran a hand across his face.    
  
" _ I _ am sorry. Really, it wasn't anything you did. I just—I have a lot of insomnia and a lot of nightmares and I." He gave a hesitant shrug. "Didn't want to keep you up," he lied, but he was sure Harry heard the underlying meaning of 'I'm not sure if I'm ready to be that vulnerable with you, yet.'    
  
With Draco's confession, something in Harry's eyes lightened. "Why didn't you just say that? I have a lot of insomnia and nightmares, too. I would understand. It's okay."    
  
Draco blinked a few times, his mind unable to process. What did Harry mean he had insomnia and nightmares?    
  
"You too?" He asked, hesitant.    
  
Harry shrugged. "Well, yeah. Of course. I mean, we survived a war. I  _ died. _ "    
  
"Okay, yes, but—“!Draco began, but realized that what he was going to say could be deemed insensitive.    
  
"But what?" Harry asked.    
  
Now, Draco looked around the room a bit, a little worried about his response. "I just thought—You and everyone look so put together all the time, I just figured...."    
  
Harry's face was washed in understanding. "You thought we were over it?"    
  
Embarrassed, Draco shrugged.    
  
"Draco," Harry said, his voice full of pity. It almost made Draco flinch. Harry walked over to him. "None of us are fine. And even if some people are at different places in their healing process or deal with things differently, that doesn't mean they aren't hurting, or are doing better than you are. If there was one thing I learned from the therapy the auror department forces us all to go through after tough cases, it's that there is never a standard for where you should be. You don't ever have to be at a certain point in your healing. It's  _ your _ healing, Draco."     
  
Everything in Harry's voice was so kind and understanding and Draco struggled to deny the knots his throat was tied in, the tears biting at the corners of his eyes. He was going to break down, he just knew it.    
  
No one had ever said that to him before. His entire life had been about appearances and not showing weakness to the world and here Harry was, telling him that healing was not a vulnerability, but a strength.    
  
Relief came to Draco like air conditioning on a hot day, leaving him feeling refreshed and comfortable.    
  
He took a shaky inhale, opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unable when Harry reached out and took his hand.    
  
Draco smiled, his body now allowing his voice to return back to normal. He moved his body language back to casual, but his fingers squeezed Harry's like they tied him to something real for once.    
  
"Sorry," he laughed. "I didn't mean to say that you weren't affected. I know you went through—“   
  
Harry gave him a sharp glare and Draco trailed off, confused.    
  
"What?" He asked.    
  
"You know another thing I learned? Don't compare your trauma. It's the same line of logic of not having to be at a certain standard of healing. I know you were going to say that I went through worse. Don't do that. What you went through was terrible and it changed you. Don't belittle that."    
  
Draco blinked. He hadn't even realized he was going to, but Harry was right.    
  
He took a deep breath, trying to center himself.    
  
"You need to stop being so hard on yourself, Draco. Okay?"   
  
Draco nodded.    
  
"So, um. If you still want me to go, I'll...."    
  
Draco's fingers tightened impossibly more. "You don't have to," he said, voice nonchalant.    
  
"Okay," Harry whispered, drawing in closer to Draco. "Then, I won't go."    
  
Before Draco knew it, he was leading Harry to his bed and everything seemed...normal. Usually in relationships when Draco got to this point with someone, his breath would be heavy, his steps would be rushed, clothes would drop along the way. But as he walked Harry there, none of that happened. Draco just felt...sleepy.    
  
They dropped in to bed, still both fully clothed and Harry turned to his side, head propped on his bent arm, eyes washing over Draco.    
  
"Why didn't I ask you out sooner?" Harry said, but his voice was so quiet that it sounded like it was a thought that was meant to be private, but had slipped underneath the door of his consciousness. So Draco let him have the moment to himself.    
  
Once again, Harry's hand found Draco's, beginning to play with his fingers as they lay in the soft bed. Draco was sure it wouldn't be long until the sheets and pillows cradled them to sleep, but he would enjoy the moments until it did.    
  
"I didn't keep you out too late, did I?" Harry asked.    
  
"Not at all." Draco laid his head down on his outstretched arm. "Tomorrow's Saturday. I don't currently have a job. I could sleep all day tomorrow if my body allows me."    
  
"Good. Don't want you tired and resenting me tomorrow."   
  
"What about you?" Draco shifted, stretching his legs out underneath the covers to find Harry's. "Does Saint Potter have somewhere to be tomorrow? Signing autographs, perhaps? Kissing the foreheads of babies?"   
  
Harry laughed. "Nope. My day tomorrow is entirely open."    
  
The sentence hung in the space between them, both sensing the open invitation. But the hesitancy of a new relationship caused it to tense up and disappear before either took advantage of it.    
  
So silence passed between them for a little while and Draco stared at their hands, this small line connecting them.    
  
When he looked back up, he was surprised to see Harry still awake.    
  
Harry looked down at him, the corners of his mouth turning down. "Do you think I'll be a good professor?" He asked, his lip curling up like he couldn't imagine Draco saying yes.    
  
Appalled, Draco sat up. "You are worried about being a good professor? Why would you think that?"   
  
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable by the question. "It's just, everyone has these expectations of me to be this big great thing, and what if I can't be? I'm not even that good at Defense Against the Dark Arts." He started to laugh. "I only use one spell."    
  
"Okay, well, that's very true. But, you did beat the Dark Lord with that one spell. You're really good at it," Draco joked.   
  
"Thank you," Harry said, playing along. "That's all these children need to know."    
  
"But, really, Harry," Draco brought the mood back to a more serious tone. "This isn't the war. You don't have to be a perfect teacher. You know why? Because these children don't actually need to defend their lives against the Unforgivables. These kids will never feel a Cruciatus unless maybe they become an auror. Harry," Draco paused, wanting Harry to feel the weight of his words. "If you aren't a perfect teacher, it's okay. These children aren't going to die because of it."    
  
After a small pause, Harry cleared his throat, clearly struggling to not cry in front of Draco. "Yeah, yeah," he said, trying to brush it off and not let it show that that was exactly what he needed someone to tell him. "You're totally right. Thanks."    
  
Draco gave Harry's hand a small squeeze. "It'll be okay. And, besides, why should you be worried? You could be the worst teacher ever and your mere presence will have parents throwing money at Hogwarts. The school will suddenly have a waiting list. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will have empty corridors because all their students had to have  _ Great Harry Potter _ as their teacher."    
  
While Draco talked, Harry laughed. "Shut up, ugh," He smiled. "You're such a drama queen. And never passive-aggressive."    
  
Draco stuck his tongue out at Harry, letting go of his hand to shove his shoulder a bit.    
  
Then, they settled back into the silence, letting the conversation rest.    
  
They didn't need to fill the space. It wasn't empty between them.    
  
Draco lay back down on top of his arm, eyes just watching Harry move, the rise and fall of his chest. He took in the sight before him:    
  
Harry was lying on his side in Draco's bed, his body disappearing beneath the grey comforter at his waist. From the window behind him, the morning light was beginning to find its way through the blinds, coming in thin slits as if hesitant to break the moment between the two.    
  
The two what, Draco didn't know. Were they lovers? Boyfriends? Two people destined to circle, but not destined for their paths to cross?    
  
He wasn't sure, but he was finding himself strangely fine with that in this moment. Because for right now, what they were didn't matter. The green of Harry's eyes contrasted against the brown of his skin was all that mattered.    
  
Without even being aware of it happening, Draco slowly drifted off to sleep, his fingers going slack in Harry's hand. His bed felt softer than it ever had to him and those green eyes followed him as faded into another world.    
  
It wasn't long before the sun came to angle that shined directly through the slats of the blinds and into Draco's eyes, pulling him out of a sleep that he only realized was dreamless and peaceful now that it was over.    
  
Harry had an arm thrown around him and was pulling Draco close to his chest, mouth open and drooling on the pillow above Draco's head.    
  
Draco took a moment to lay there, in awe of what was happening to him. Out of all the people he could have found himself with in his life, he was being held tight by an asleep Harry Potter.    
  
With surprisingly bony ribs.    
  
But Draco didn't care. If his body didn't feel so heavy with sleep, quiet with contentment, he may have felt differently. Maybe his head would starting spinning around like a top, spiraling until he fell into the conclusion that this was all too good for him, but right now Draco found nothing wrong with the scene before him.    
  
In his bed, underneath his comforter, in the arms of Harry Potter was exactly where Draco was meant to be.    
  
And he felt safe.    
  
Ignoring the sun and its calls of the morning, Draco tucked his head into the shadow of Harry's chest and closed his eyes.    
  
__________   
  
When he awoke again, he was sprawled on his back, arms and legs stretching out towards the four corners of the bed. He jerked awake as if slapped out of a dream and blinked up at his ceiling.    
  
He didn't immediately feel Harry's body next to him.    
  
But he did immediately seek it out.    
  
Draco turned his head to the side, greeted by the sight of Harry sitting amongst the pillows, back against the headboard. He was sipping from a blue splattered mug—one of two that Draco always kept by his kettle. A book was open in a V, balanced in one of Harry's hands and his legs were stretched out in front of him on top of the covers, boxers giving way to hairy legs that slid into crumpled socks.    
  
The only thought that entered Draco's head upon this still-waking moment was, 'who sleeps in their socks?'    
  
Harry noticed him then, glancing up from the page he was reading. One side of his lips quirked up in a delighted half-smile.    
  
"Morning," he said. "Or, rather...we're getting into the afternoon, I suppose. It's about 12:30."    
  
Draco sat up, rubbing an eye with the base of his hand. "I slept that long?"   
  
"It was only about six hours. I myself only woke up about twenty minutes ago." Harry set the book down and reached over to the side table, picking up a red splattered mug almost identical to the one he was holding. The other one Draco kept by the kettle. He had set a charm on it to keep it warm until Draco woke up.    
  
Taking the mug, Draco moved himself up, settling next to Harry.    
  
He took a sip of the tea. "So, what are you reading?"    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ill ask yall since readers of one of my other fics did not respond: do i sound too much like a Poetic Bitch when i write or are y'all cool w it lmao 
> 
> harry's feeling a big case of imposter syndrome about being a professor 
> 
> i really wanted to leave this off at a little slice of life-type scene so sorry if you feel like its not a good ending i like it


	6. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I have continuity errors or have said things twice I apologize but it’s been a minute since this updated lmao 
> 
> WARNING:: second-hand embarrassment lmaooooo get rekt Harry

They spent the morning lazing about Draco's flat, neither wanting Harry to leave. It was like if either of them stepped outside, the world they were living in would be forever gone.   
  
Neither of them had considered that their world would shatter by someone coming _in._   
  
The door opened abruptly, both Draco and Harry jumping slightly from where they were sitting on Draco's sofa. The sounds of Pansy Parkinson entering Draco's flat preceded her.   
  
“Ugh, I’m telling you, Draco, you really need new drapes. These are so out of style,” she said as she walked in, her heels clicking on Draco’s hardwood floor. She reached the entrance to the room Draco and Harry were in and stopped short in the doorway the second her eyes landed on Harry.   
  
“Potter,” she said. “What are you doing here?”   
  
Unsure of how to respond when her tone carried another underlying question, Harry glanced over at Draco, deciding to let him respond.   
  
Draco shrugged, barely looking up from his book. “He spent the night. He woke up in the morning. He’s still here.” Now, he met her eyes. “Do you have a problem with that?”   
  
In return, Pansy narrowed her eyes at her friend as if she was trying to figure something out. “Of course not, darling. It’s your flat. Do what you want.”   
  
Another pause. “I would expect as much,” Draco said.   
  
Harry glanced back and forth between the friends, highly unsure. There was some unspoken conversation happening that Harry couldn’t decipher.   
  
“Interesting,” Pansy remarked after a moment of silence.   
  
Draco waited a beat before continuing. “I presume you had reason for coming over unannounced?”   
  
Pansy pressed her lips together. “I need to—“ She glanced at Harry. “— _borrow_ something of yours.”   
  
Understanding came over Draco and he lifted his eyebrows up. “Really, Pansy? Please, no. You are the worst.”   
  
Unbelievably confused now, Harry continued to look back and forth between them.   
  
Pansy shrugged. “Well, I thought you wouldn’t be needing it, but—“ She stopped, smirking in Harry’s direction. “Now that I know you have Potter I understand if you have a different use for it.”   
  
Ah, thought Harry. So it was something sexual.   
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “You know where it is, Pans, just take it.”   
  
She held her hands up. “No, no. It’s quite alright. I mean, I don’t know how long Potter’s going to be staying over today and—“   
  
“Take the damn potion, Pansy!” Draco snapped.   
  
With a triumphant smile, she turned on a heel and left the room. Minutes later, they heard the door click shut behind her.   
  
When she was gone, Harry looked over to Draco who was clearly pretending to have rapt interest in what he was reading so as to ignore this impending conversation.  
  
But Harry just couldn’t resist.   
  
“So what’s the potion for?” He asked.   
  
Without looking up, Draco said, “You don’t want to know.”   
  
“Come on,” Harry said. When Draco still didn’t budge, Harry poked his shoulder. “Tell me,” he needled.   
  
“You really want to know?” Draco asked, making eye contact and raising his eyebrows. Harry nodded. “It’s a potion to increase lubrication during long, sustained periods of intercourse. And I didn’t want to say anything considering Pansy is dating your ex girlfriend but since you insisted....” Draco turned back to his book.   
  
Harry, however, stared at the other end of the room, actively trying to not picture anything about that situation. Because as much as he didn’t like Pansy Parkinson and as much as that breakup had wrecked him...he had to admit that his ex could have made a worse choice when it came to the attractiveness of her next partner. Actually, now that he was thinking about it—  
  
Draco nudged his foot against Harry’s leg and Harry’s eyes snapped to his. “You pervert!” Draco practically yelled. “That’s my best friend!”   
  
Harry laughed, the sound ringing through the room. “And my ex girlfriend! There are things that I have seen, okay? I’m just saying, Ginny could have done worse.”   
  
“I see you’re taking the breakup well, then?” Draco remarked, clearly still not happy.   
  
But Harry smiled at him. “You know, I was having a hard time with it, thinking I would never find someone again. It’s like....” Harry turned, looking at Draco, noting that he had politely closed his book to give Harry his attention. “It was like I used to think Ginny was my only option because everyone else treated me as Harry _Potter._ I was never just Harry.”  
  
“Well, to me you’ll always be ‘Potter,’” Draco said, imitating the way in which he would always yell at Harry when they were back in school.   
  
Harry burst out laughing, leaning back on the couch, reminded of those days. “Don’t do that,” he laughed. “You said my name like that and all of a sudden I was back in the Great Hall. It was very....” He shook his head, still chuckling.   
  
“You’re going to have to get used to that whiplash feeling. We are, after all, both going to be back at Hogwarts soon.”   
  
“You’re right,” Harry said. “Although, I don’t think we’ll quite be keeping up the same house rivalries as last time.”   
  
Draco’s smile froze for an unnoticeable half-second. He hadn’t told Harry that he was going to be Slytherin Head of House. For a moment, he wondered if he should before deciding against it. There wasn’t any point, really, and he didn’t want to sound braggy.   
  
“I don’t know,” Harry said, sighing. “I think I’m going to like teaching. I mean, sure, they’re going to be super obnoxious but I can’t wait for my NEWT level class.”   
  
Draco perked up at that. “I know exactly what you mean! The first years and so are going to be grueling but I can’t wait to work with competent children who at least slightly want to be there.”   
  
“I don’t know; I never wanted to be in NEWT potions.”   
  
“Well, that was because you hated Snape.”  
  
“Naturally.” Harry paused, running his hand through his hair. “Wait, do you think we’re going to have students who hate us?”   
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I will. It may take a few years for students to stop being awestruck at you, though.”   
  
Harry shifted, tucking a leg underneath himself. “Weren’t the current seventh years first years during our eighth year?”   
  
Nose scrunching up as he worked out the numbers, Draco nodded. “That should be right.”   
  
Thinking about it for a moment, Harry nodded a little bit before his eyes went wide. “Oh, no,” he said.   
  
Setting the book down on the table now, Draco turned to Harry fully. “What?”   
  
Harry’s hands came up to cover his mouth. “Once, Ginny and I started to hook up in a hall closet and we were caught by a group of first years.”   
  
Unable to control himself, Draco burst out laughing. “Wait, wait, wait,” he laughed. “What do you mean by ‘starting to hook up?’ How far—“   
  
“Both shirts were off and my trousers were around my ankles but my pants were still on.” Harry looked absolutely mortified.   
  
At this information, Draco laughed harder. Leave it to Potter to somehow end up with students that had seen him almost naked.   
  
Harry’s hands came up to cover his face. “I just remember a lot of shrieking and laughing and I was trying to pull up my trousers and—You know, up until now, I had completely blocked out that memory.”   
  
As Draco laughed, he looked up at the ceiling and for a moment, lost himself in the feeling of laughing.   
  
It felt good. There were no fancy words for it, no thesaurus-type adjectives. It just felt good.   
  
His laughter died down and so did Harry’s and Draco tipped his head to the side, eyes dropping down to meet Harry’s. “I think, despite all that, you’re going to make a wonderful professor.”   
  
A soft smile came across Harry’s lips. “I think you are, too, Draco.”   
  
A moment passed between them and Harry’s hand slid closer to Draco’s. He pressed the sides together, both lying their palms flat, but didn’t move further. In turn, Draco wrapped his pinkie finger around Harry’s.   
  
“What are we supposed to do about...this?” He hesitated to call it a relationship. Harry had, after all, just broken up with Ginny so recently.   
  
“Well, I think it’s enough of something that we should tell McGonagall, don’t you?”   
  
“I don’t want to do that,” Draco said softly. “If I have to sit in front of Minerva McGonagall and tell her—That’s so awkward.” After he stopped speaking, he waited, wondering if Harry would take that as a rejection.   
  
Luckily, he didn’t.  
  
“Still,” Harry said. “I think we need to tell her. I don’t want to have to explain after the fact why you affected my judgement in some random matter.”   
  
Draco lifted his head off of the back of the sofa. “You like me enough that it would affect your judgement?”   
  
“Draco, you’ve always affected my judgement. I can never think clearly around you. I always am doing the things I’m told I shouldn’t when it comes to you. It may be one of my favorite things about you.”   
  
While he knew what Harry was trying to mean, Draco couldn’t help himself from fixating on that one phrase ‘the things I’m told.’ What he really meant was the things he _should._ Draco was not something Harry _should_ do, but rather a taboo to be indulged in.   
  
He didn’t move his hand away, but he but he bit the inside of his bottom lip, focusing on the pain there instead of the emotional hole building inside of him. Draco could just never stop himself from wondering if Harry liked him for him or for the connotations of them.   
  
But he couldn’t hide the hurt.   
  
“Draco, what is it?”   
  
As soon as Harry spoke, Draco couldn’t hold it back anymore. He felt his eyes begin to wet and he shook his head, moving his hand solidly back from Harry’s and into his lap. He couldn’t deal with this right now.   
  
“Draco?” Harry’s hand chased his and he slid closer to Draco, their legs pressed together along the seams now. One arm of Harry’s came around Draco’s shoulders, holding him close.   
  
For a brief moment, Draco shut his eyes and turned his head away. But before he could get the courage to stand, he breathed out a sob and melted into Harry’s arms.   
  
Harry’s hand found its way to Draco’s hair, smoothing it down as Draco tried to stop his crying. One of his hands was being held tight by Harry’s but his other came up, frantic to wipe away all evidence of his pain.   
  
Quickly, he got himself under control, shoving his emotions far enough back down that he could ignore their cries to be felt.   
  
When he looked back up at Harry, his breathing was almost even, his shoulders were sturdy and between his eyebrows was smooth, but there was a vulnerability crowding his eyes.   
  
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Don’t know where that came from,” he lied, trying to laugh it off and failing.   
  
“I think you do,” Harry said, still not moving.   
  
Draco evaded the comment. “It’s fine.”   
  
“It’s clearly not. Was it something I said? Something I did?”   
  
Shaking his head, Draco shifted away slightly. Harry let him go, but still held his hand tight.   
  
The two spent the next few minutes with Harry asking questions, wanting to make sure Draco was alright, and Draco slipping past them without revealing anything.   
  
Finally, Harry just said, “Draco,” in a serious and final tone. “Please don’t lie to me. If you truly don’t want to talk about it, say that. But don’t lie to me and tell me everything is fine when it’s not.”  
  
And that was what did it.   
  
Draco was back to biting his lips, trying to keep the tears held back. He wanted to get through this without his voice mangling his message.   
  
“Why are you doing this?” Draco started, but he wasn’t quite looking at Harry. He missed the confused look that passed over Harry’s features at his question. “Why would you show interest in me? It’s not going to be easy. It’s been little more than a week and things already aren’t easy. I can’t imagine what it would be like if the press found out. You’ve always been so concerned with doing the right thing and I am so clearly the wrong thing.” Now, he met Harry’s eyes. “I feel like delayed teenage rebellion.”   
  
Harry’s eyes went wide with understanding. “No, Draco, not at all. You’re right in saying that I’ve always been so concerned with doing the right thing. But I’ve learned that just because everyone wants me to do something doesn’t make it right. I have to determine that for myself. And if people give me shit for it, that’s their problem. Not mine. You aren’t delayed teenage rebellion.” Harry squeezed his hand. “You’re me realizing that I can do what feels right to me. Draco.” Harry paused for a moment, smiling. “You’re what feels right to me. I don’t care what everyone else says.”   
  
He looked so excited, Draco didn’t want to bring him down. But he couldn’t meet him on that same level of happy. “You realize that if people find out we’re together, they’ll also find out that you’re not straight, right?”   
  
“I don’t care.”   
  
“Really?” Draco raised his eyebrows. “So you wouldn’t have any hesitation of going and telling Ron Weasley right now that we went on a date?”   
  
At that, Harry laughed. Draco only felt vindicated.   
  
“Draco, I told Ron and Hermione I realized I was bisexual less than an hour after I realized it. And I told them that that wasn’t even the important news because I had _more_ important news that I have feelings for you! They knew before I asked you out. They heard all about our date. Ron has been pestering me all week to just come see you instead of telling him the same cute things you did on our date for the fiftieth time. They already know. And so does Pansy, now.”   
  
He reached out and took Draco’s other hand as well. “Really, Draco, I don’t care what people think. I have feelings for you. I know it’s only been one—two if we count last night—dates, but I already have a lot of feelings. And I’m not ashamed of them. I realized I had been holding all of this in for years in order to do what people want me to. I completely forgot about what I wanted. And I want you. Make no mistake about that, Draco Malfoy; I want you.”   
  
Shit, now Draco felt like he was going to cry again.   
  
“Your friends already know?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“And...are they okay with it?” Draco waited for Harry to brush it off, saying it didn’t really matter, but Draco knew that would only mean that they didn’t. And if they didn’t, it would eventually lead to him and Harry breaking up because it would eventually lead to Harry blaming him.   
  
Harry took a deep breath and Draco could almost flinch with waiting for the verbal blow to their future. “Hermione accepted it immediately. Ron, however, went silent for a long period of time. When he finally spoke again, he had made himself be fine with however far this relationship could possibly go with one condition.”   
  
Draco held his breath. What could Weasley have asked?   
  
“He said he’s fine with it as long as he is never seated next to Pansy Parkinson at any event ever.”   
  
Draco exhaled. That could have been so much worse.   
  
“I think the one he may have to talk to about that would be his sister, not his best friend.”   
  
“Yeah?” Harry smiled. “You think they’re getting serious?”   
  
“I don’t know if they are or not, but I know Pansy has plans to. They’ve only been together for about a month, but Pansy is a total Uhaul.”   
  
Harry gave him a confused look.   
  
“Uhaul is a term for lesbians who move way too fast in relationships,” Draco explained. “Pansy is definitely one and usually scares off her girlfriends by moving too fast. A month is nearly a record for her and the Three Big Words. It means she likes Ginny a lot, trying not to scare her away.”   
  
“That’s so exciting!” Harry said. After a moment, he added, “Also that kind of sounds like me.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Draco asked.   
  
“I told Gin I loved her after three weeks of official dating. And then, we’ve been on one date and I just said that I have a lot of feelings for you.”   
  
Draco laughed under his breath. “Don’t worry. You’ll only scare me off a little.”   
  
“Oh, thank you for that,” Harry said, smiling. “But really, though. You’re not delayed teenage rebellion. And I’m not ashamed to like you.”   
  
“I never said that you were.”   
  
“You didn’t need to.”   
  
Draco took a deep breath. “Sorry about all that.”   
  
“Don’t be,” Harry said. “I don’t ever want you to feel like that. If you ever start to feel like that again, you’ll tell me?” Draco nodded. “Okay. So, are we agreed that we’re telling McGonagall?”   
  
“I suppose we’ll have to if you’re trying to move things so fast.” Casually, Draco moved one of his hands out of Harry’s grip, brushing his hair back. But he left the other one.   
  
“Also,” Draco continued. “I feel that if she finds out we’ll probably be in trouble for not telling her when this technically started before we even officially took the jobs.”   
  
“Very true,” Harry laughed. “Although, I would argue that this started a long time ago. I mean, Hermione wasn’t exactly surprised.”  
  
“Yeah, neither was Pansy.”   
  
“Nor Luna.”   
  
“Quite frankly, I feel like the only person caught off guard was me,” Draco confessed.  
  
“Oh, you weren’t nearly surprised as I was. I didn’t know I was into men.”   
  
They laughed together a moment and then Harry leaned back, admiring the way his and Draco’s hands looked together. “So,” he asked. “What are we doing today?”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmaooo harry is just a uh mess
> 
> i assumed y’all would know Uhaul but i didn’t feel like explaining it in comments lol. also like Uhaul doesn’t seem like a big deal or whatever until you have experience w Uhaul lesbians lmao my friend got in a relationship and the girl said that they were soulmates after like 3 (?) days. Headcanon Pansy much? yes. headcanon Harry more? yes. (am i a Uhaul gay??) (((maybe lol yes I want a hubby so bad)))


	7. Unexpected

The weeks passed smoothly and Harry and Draco began settling in to a routine. They essentially had the summer together; Harry was getting less and less work at the aurors since he was leaving so soon, which meant he was actually leaving at normal hours. He and Draco had dinner together multiple times a week and usually spent the entire weekend together.    
  
And they both found themselves happy.    
  
They were happy together.    
  
Draco sat down at the edge of his bed, book in one hand, tea in the other. He and Harry were spending the night apart--which happened fairly rarely these days--and Draco had decided he was going to spend a nice evening by himself. He set the tea down and sat back against the headboard with his book.    
  
Less than five minutes later he had set the book down. Reality had set in.    
  
Sure, he and Harry were doing well and all but Draco just couldn't ignore a sense of impending doom. It was all going to crash down around them, he just knew it.    
  
The longer he sat and thought about it, the more he began to freak out. He couldn't do this. He needed to break up with Harry--   
  
Wait. Were they even at a point where they...could break up? Were they dating like that?    
  
Standing up, Draco tried to stop himself from panicking. He had clearly vastly overestimated how much Harry cared for him. They weren't even  _ dating _ so why was Draco freaking out so much? Perhaps he had been misreading things entirely and Harry saw him more as a friend than anything else. Sure, they had kissed a lot and all but that didn't mean that their relationship  _ was _ something,  _ meant _ something. They hadn't even had sex, after all.    
  
He needed a glass of water.    
  
Draco left his room and poured himself a cold glass of water, downing it in one breath. He was probably freaking out needlessly. They probably weren't even dating.    
  
Then again, if they were dating and Draco knew that he had to break up with Harry because clearly Harry was not in his right mind and was making a mistake dating Draco....   
  
Well, he couldn't just break up with  _ Harry Potter _ . He was already hated enough.    
  
He set the glass back on the counter before bending over and putting his head in his hands. Maybe he didn't have to break up with Harry. Maybe things were actually fine.    
  
Draco shook his head sharply, standing and making his way back to his bedroom. He couldn't think like that. He had no evidence that Harry actually cared for him so he needed to calm down. Couldn't get ahead of himself like that or he would just get his heart broken.    
  
He probably didn't mean much to Harry at all.    
  
Sitting back on his bed and trying to focus on his book, he was interrupted before he could even get a paragraph in by the sound of his Floo. Suspicious, he grabbed his wand and walked into the other room, peeking around the corner to see the fireplace. And there, teetering, was an at least semi-drunk Harry Potter.    
  
Setting his want on the side table, he walked fully into the room. "Harry, you scared me."    
  
Noticing Draco, Harry's face lit up. "Draco," he singsonged. His shoulders dropped and his head titled to the side. "I missed you."    
  
"You literally saw me yesterday. Come on," Draco walked to him. "Let's get you home. Probably stepped out in my floo by accident."    
  
Harry shook his head. "No accident," he whispered. "I missed you." When Draco was close enough, Harry reached out and took hold of his hands, leaning in close to Draco. "I wanted to see you."    
  
"Harry, you saw me yesterday," Draco maintained.    
  
"Well, today is a new day. And I want to see you everyday. And I mean...like really, not just in my head."    
  
Draco raised his eyebrows, playing along with what he had now determined to be a mostly-drunk Harry. "Oh? You see me in your head?"    
  
Smiling stupidly, Harry nodded. "You have no idea. I see you in my head lots of different ways."    
  
"Harry, I think we should get you home," Draco said.    
  
Again, Harry just shook his head. "Wanna be with you."    
  
"You'll see me tomorrow, Harry. You need to sleep."    
  
Harry scrunched up his entire face. "Those things don't make sense together. 'Ow'm I supposed to go back home and sleep? My bed is so big and cold without you there."    
  
Thinking back to his minutes-ago freakout, Draco tried to ignore the way that made him feel. He didn't know Harry's intentions, after all.    
  
"Alright, fine, Harry," Draco relented. "You can sleep here. Come on, let's get you to bed."    
  
Harry looked like he was going for a suave smirk, but his face ended up looking lovey and lopsided. "Ooh, trying to get me to bed, Draco Malfoy?"   
  
Draco rolled his eyes, guiding Harry to the bedroom. They walked in the door and Harry crossed the room to the bed, flopping down face first on the covers. As Draco sat down next to him, Harry mumbled something into the mattress.    
  
"What was that, Harry?" Draco asked.    
  
Harry turned his head to the side. "I love you, Draco. 'Know I'm not supposed to say it this soon, but," He smiled. "I think I'll just blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning. But know this," Harry shifted on the bed, coming up to grab Draco's hand. "It's not the alcohol," he whispered. "It's you." He then kissed the inside of Draco's wrist and fell back down, quickly asleep.    
  
His fingers, however, were still wrapped around Draco's wrist and Draco stared at them, reeling from what had just happened.    
  
He was going to panic again.    
  
Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He didn't know what to make of all this.    
  
Draco stayed awake all night, watching Harry sleep, feeling numb.    
  
__________   
  
Harry woke up, shifting and inhaling sharply. Draco tried to snap himself out of the state he had been in all night, smiling down at Harry.    
  
Looking up at Draco, Harry's eyebrows scrunched together. "What's wrong, Draco? You look like you didn't sleep?"    
  
Draco felt his skin start to go cold. "It's fine," he lied.    
  
Harry sat up now. "What's going on?" It was then that Draco remembered his promise to Harry a few weeks ago to tell him whenever he was starting to doubt their relationship. He watched as Harry's face fell, clearly remembering what he had said last night. "Oh."    
  
Taking a deep breath, Draco said, "Harry, I need you to be honest with me. What is this?"    
  
At this, Harry looked confused. "What do you mean? I thought we're dating?"    
  
Draco was still staring at his hands. "I just...wasn't sure. I know that you had said a few weeks ago that you had a lot of feelings for me, but we hadn't really discussed the nature of our relationship. And then...." He let himself trail off. He didn't have to say anything for Harry to know that he was referencing what Harry said last night.    
  
Silence stretched on for almost a minute before Harry said. "I meant it, you know. I love you." He held up a hand before Draco could say anything back. "Please don't say anything." Harry took a breath, as if preparing himself. "Draco, I know that you have doubts about this relationship. That's okay; I know how thoughts can get twisted and convince you of things that aren't real. But I'm not going to lie to you."    
  
Harry shifted, looking Draco in the eyes now. "I'm sorry; you're right; we probably should have explicitly discussed the nature of our relationship. I'll have to get better at things like that." He smiled. "I think we should try and be preemptive about these doubts of yours. What do you think?"    
  
For a moment, Draco couldn't respond, feeling like his throat was clutched in an iron grip of emotions. "I know that I freak out needlessly. I know I should talk to you about it more but then I get scared to talk to you because what if I completely overestimated how you feel about me or what if I do the opposite and you get offended that I would even--" He cut himself off with a sigh. "I don't want to keep coming to you with all of these doubts because I don't want it to seem like these conversations are pointless because they don't help. They do help. I just feel like...at some point your patience with me is going to wear thin."    
  
"Well," Harry said. "Contrary to popular belief, I am not perfect. But I will try my best to always be patient with you. Draco, I--" Harry paused for a moment, looking like was unsure if he should say something.    
  
"What is it?" Draco prompted.    
  
"If this is crossing a line, just let me know, okay?"    
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Okay..."    
  
"Do you think any of this has to do with...maybe your family? I know that I had to work for years to accept that people cared about me because the Dursleys were always so terrible. Do you think that...maybe?" Harry left the question hanging.    
  
For a moment, Draco thought on the possibility. It didn't take him very long before he blinked, realizing that Harry was exactly right. He never had consistent affection from his father.    
  
Sitting back, Draco put a hand over his open mouth. He met Harry's eyes and started to laugh. "I have  _ daddy issues _ . No! That's so cliche." Before he could stop himself, Draco was laughing fully now. "That's what happens when you don't show affection to your child and crucio them! Oh!" He put his head in his hands, shoulders still shaking with laughter. "Fuck, I can't believe I have  _ daddy issues _ ."    
  
"Draco," Harry said, hand comforting on his shoulder. "It's actually a serious thing that you should probably process."    
  
Lifting his head, Draco said, "Well, yes. You're quite right. I just--it just hit me. Wow. I can't believe that. How had I never seen that before?"    
  
Harry shrugged. "I thought my childhood was normal until I met Molly Weasley. I would just offhand say things around the Weasleys and they would all just...stare at me like I had said something incredibly wrong. And I slowly learned that I did not grow up in a loving home. It never should have happened that way, but it did, and I had to grow past it. Sure, there are things that I still struggle with and likely there are things I'll struggle with for the rest of my life. But, largely, I've worked past a lot of it."    
  
"So what you're saying is, there's hope?" Draco joked.    
  
Harry smiled. "Always."    
  
"Well, good to know I won't be an emotional mess forever."    
  
Once again, Harry took his hand and Draco stared at that spot where he had kissed him last night after his love confession. "Now that you know that I've been through something similar in my life, maybe it'll help you when you think that you don't want to come to me about something?"    
  
Draco nodded. "I think it probably will."    
  
Harry leaned down and kissed Draco at that same spot on the inside of his wrist. "Do you want to talk about it now?"    
  
Thinking for a moment, Draco wasn't quite sure. "Wait, so let's clarify something. We  _ are _ officially dating, right?"    
  
"Well, I'm glad that you brought that up because that is what I was going to say at our meeting with McGonagall today."    
  
"Oh shit!" Draco exclaimed, looking at his clock. "That's today?"    
  
Harry nodded. "Yup. So I say we have a conversation about this, eat something, and head over?"    
  
"Probably a good idea," Draco said.    
  
"Great." Harry stood up. "I'll make eggs if you make tea?"    
  
"Perfect," Draco said. Harry walked out of the room and Draco took a small moment to himself. He hadn't quite taken the time to actually think about the good side of what had happened last night.    
  
Harry Potter loved him! And he had said it again, sober.    
  
When Harry had initially said it, all of Draco's anxieties had spiked. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that those words had actually eased his anxieties. Because what he was truly worried about all along was that his love would be unrequited.    
  
Because it was true: Draco Malfoy had been in love with Harry Potter for years. He was just scared that this was all some elaborate prank and that Harry didn't like him at all. But that clearly wasn't true.    
  
When Draco entered the kitchen, he saw someone more than just Harry.    
  
"Pansy, what the hell are you doing here? Again?"    
  
She was sitting on his kitchen counter, next to where Harry was frying eggs. "I was looking for your boyfriend," Pansy said, kicking Harry's arm lightly.    
  
Warmth bloomed inside of Draco's chest and he tried to not break out in a smile. That was the first time that someone had called them that....boyfriends. Harry was his boyfriend.    
  
It felt to third year to get all giggly about that, but Draco just couldn't help it. Harry Potter was his boyfriend and they were in love.    
  
How had his life turned out to be this amazing?    
  
Harry glanced over his shoulder. "She's pestering me with questions about my ex. Again."    
  
"What do you mean again?" Draco asked.    
  
"She seems to be using me instead of just talking to her girlfriend about these things," Harry said, giving a pointed look at Pansy.    
  
She shrugged, looking at Draco. "It's not my fault that I don't want to ruin a surprise that I'm planning for Ginny. You know, Potter, you could also pick my brain for information about Draco if you ever want to surprise him. You know, if you ever feel like being romantic for once in your life."    
  
"Excuse you?" Harry asked. "Who said I'm not romantic? Did Ginny say I'm not romantic?"    
  
"I say you're not romantic from what I've heard from Ginny. I treat her like a fucking queen, Potter." She leaned in. "And you better step up your game now that you're dating my best friend. So, what do you want to know about Draco?"    
  
"Not sure if I need your help, Pansy," Harry said, scooping the eggs onto a plate. "If you don't recall, I did stalk him for a good seven/eight years."    
  
"Yeah, well, I'm his best friend and I also pretended to have a crush on him to hide that I'm a lesbian."    
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Is this going to turn into a competition between you two?" He bought the eggs over to the table and Harry and Pansy sat with him.    
  
"I'm just saying," Pansy said, scooping up an egg. "If Potter is going to be your boyfriend, he better learn to treat you right. And that includes knowing every detail and every quirk of you to accurately predict your needs and moods." She glanced at Harry. "Of which he has a lot, in case you haven't noticed. Anyway, when are you two going public?"    
  
Harry and Draco both exchanged an unsure look.    
  
"Ooh," Pansy said, clearly sniffing out drama. "You haven't talked about that yet. Scandalous."    
  
"Well," Harry said, taking Pansy's meddling in stride. "Even though we haven't talked about it, I think we'll probably be going public soon, considering."    
  
"Considering...what?" Pansy prodded.    
  
"We have a meeting in about an hour with McGonagall to inform her that we are in a relationship."    
  
Pansy's jaw dropped. "Shut up, no way." She looked over at Draco. "Babe! He actually likes you!"    
  
Draco smiled at Harry. "He does, doesn't he?"    
  
"Holy shit." Pansy looked back and forth between the two of them. "And here I was thinking you two wouldn't even last the summer. Damn. Well, Potter, I guess that means we're going to have to get used to each other, hm?"    
  
"I don't think anyone can get used to you, Pans," Draco said. "So what's this surprise for Ginny?"    
  
"She won't tell me!" Harry said. "She wants me to help but doesn't want to give me any information."    
  
"Well," Pansy said, speaking directly to Draco. "Her and I had a few...encounters back when we were still at Hogwarts. You know, she was going through guys back then and at one point got a little...well disinterested in the male form and yours truly was waiting for her each time. I'm trying to recreate one of those times."    
  
Harry and Draco both stared at Pansy for a moment. Neither had known that she and Ginny had something back then.    
  
"Okay, well, now that I'm over the offense of not being told about this sooner," Draco said. "I think that's actually really cute, Pans."    
  
She lifted a shoulder, smiling. "Thanks. I'm really good at romantic shit." She threw a glare in Harry's direction. "Some people should catch up."    
  
Before Harry could respond, Draco jumped in again. "While it has been lovely enjoying your company, Pansy, Harry and I have to get going."    
  
Pansy jumped up. "Oh, right! Your meeting with the Headmistress." She rested her elbow on Harry's shoulder, looking at him conspiratorially. "Have fun dealing with this one's drama. If you say anything sweet in front of McGonagall, he's probably gonna cry." Straightening up, Pansy started walking towards the Floo. "Love you, Draco! See you!"    
  
Draco turned towards Harry. "Sorry, you know how she can be."    
  
Smiling, Harry stood up and stared cleaning plates away. "It's fine. She's kinda fun." He shrugged. "In a bitchy way."    
  
"Yes,  _ exactly _ ," Draco laughed.    
  
After putting the plates in the sink, Harry came back over to Draco and gave him a slow, deep kiss. "Let's go get showered and changed and get over to our meeting."    
  
Taking Draco's hand, Harry started to walk them back towards the bedroom. "Ooh, trying to get me naked in the shower, Harry Potter?" Draco said, mimicking Harry from last night.    
  
Harry's laugh rang out into Draco's apartment and Draco knew that his worries from this morning were gone. Even if only for now, he really was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we love processing past traumas!!
> 
> also i guess harry just "scrunches" his face a lot lmao @ me where did that come from?? 
> 
> i promise they're gonna be professors in like 2 chapters lol finally gonna deliver on my tags fowfscsoiesgfkzj


	8. Meetings

Harry and Draco were sitting in the Headmistress' office across from McGonagall. Both were trying not to fidget and Harry was failing. Draco, however, appeared as perfectly composed as always.    
  
"So," McGonagall began. "You two called this meeting. I was quite surprised when you did. Mr. Potter, you said that it had something to do with a possibility of your relationship affecting your work? Do you two think that I did not take into account your past when I hired you both?"    
  
Harry glanced over at Draco. "Actually, McGonagall, it's kind of...the opposite of that."    
  
Minerva just waited for one of the two of them to explain.    
  
"Well, you see," Harry began, clearly not knowing how to phrase what he was trying to say.    
  
"Harry and I are dating," Draco said. "We thought we should inform you of this, considering we are about to become coworkers. This did start before we both officially accepted jobs here. We do not anticipate that it will affect our judgement or work in any way. Do you have any questions?"    
  
Smiling, Harry looked over at Draco. He really was going to make a good teacher.    
  
McGonagall took a deep breath. "I am glad that you have told me this. It will give me an opportunity to discuss some things with both of you." She crossed her arms on top of the desk. "Mr. Malfoy, I am sure that you are aware of the likelihood that you will face certain difficulties here that others will not. I have complete confidence that you will handle any and all of them in stride while being professional."    
  
Now, she turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, you on the other hand, I do not have such confidence in."    
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, defensive.    
  
"If someone were to say something to me," Draco said. "My response would be to turn the other cheek, as I have learned to do throughout the years. Your response, on the other hand, would be 'talk shit, get hit.'"    
  
"While those are not the exact words I would have used," McGonagall said. "Mr. Malfoy's sentiment is correct."    
  
"So, what?" Harry asked. "You're going to just do nothing if some kid brings up Draco's past? All that's doing is teaching these kids that that's okay when it's not."    
  
"I didn't say I wouldn't do anything," Draco said. "I've learned how to navigate these situations and you are likely to jump to my defense before you think fully through the repercussions of your actions."    
  
"I--Well...." Harry gave up arguing. "Well, yeah. Probably." He looked down at his hands a moment but then something else occurred to him. "Then what am I supposed to do if a kid says something during my class? Which, by the way, I sort of expect to happen because these kids don't know the full situation. All they will see is that you used to be a Death Eater and I'm Harry Potter and assume that it's okay to say things like that in front of me. I can't let that happen. What am I supposed to do?"    
  
"Well, Mr. Potter," McGonagall began. "You can always send them to me."    
  
Harry paused a moment, knowing he wouldn't be able to do that. "But then I just look spineless. Or it could be interpreted as I actually agree with them but can't say anything because of the situation. I think that I need to establish at the earliest possible time that that shit does not fly with me."    
  
"I do think it's good for you to make it clear that that is what you believe, Mr. Potter, but the situation must be handled delicately or the child could file a complaint and, if your behavior is inappropriate, I would likely be obligated to investigate. It would be better if you sent the students to me."    
  
For a moment, Harry chewed on the inside of his lip, considering. "Nah, I'll just fuck it up like I usually do. I used to being in trouble." He shrugged one shoulder.    
  
Next to him, he caught Draco rolling his eyes. "Harry, you can't just do that. This matter is entirely about public perception. Especially if you act that way and then it comes out later that we are dating and were at the time. You think you're so secure in your fame but people are vicious and could turn on you in an instant for your feelings towards me."    
  
"What are they gonna do?" Harry had to fight to keep himself sitting. "Are they just going to write off Harry Potter? Look, all of us in this room know that I don't exactly appreciate the fame and just want to live a normal life, but if they try and make me some sort of famous has-been because of us, I will not let that happen. I will use that fame to my advantage. I don't really see it that way, but I could make quite the convincing argument that I saved the world. And if I--who was directly involved with both you and the war--say that you're innocent, why should the people not believe me?"    
  
By the time Harry was done talking, McGonagall looked a tad pained and Draco was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. Finally, Draco took a deep breath and looked up at Harry.    
  
"You absolutely cannot do that, ever, Harry. Like I said, it is all about public opinion. Next thing you know, the papers will be saying that I brainwashed you. Or worse, they will turn against you entirely with headlines like 'Harry Potter revealed to be on the Side of Death Eaters the Entire Time.' The situation regarding my past--and everyone's opinions of it because no one doesn't have an opinion on it--is precarious. We all have to maintain poise.    
  
"Harry," Draco continued. "We both know you were almost sorted into Slytherin. Act like it for once."    
  
Harry groaned, his head falling back. "It shouldn't be that way!"    
  
"Of course it shouldn't. But it is. And unless you want to make it worse, you're going to have to listen to others who know how to handle this kind of thing better. You've never had to be concerned with your public image so you don't know how to deal with it."    
  
"I  _ don't _ care about my public image! Draco," Harry reached out and took Draco's hand. "I only care that I love you. And if anyone has anything to say about that they can--"    
  
"Mr. Potter."    
  
Harry turned back to McGonagall, having forgotten for a moment that she was in the room.    
  
"This is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about. I know that you angry about the situation and feel that it is unrighteous. However, as Draco said, you have to maintain a certain level of detached poise. You care about Draco, yes? Then listen to him. He has worked very hard to clean up his reputation as well as he has. Don't ruin it by running your mouth."    
  
For an instant, Harry's mouth remained hanging open. "Understood, Headmistress," he said, slightly numb.    
  
"Good. I'm glad that we understand each other. Moving on, then. I will need both of your finalized curriculums owled to me by Friday for approval. There is also a final staff meeting next Wednesday and, as you know, the session starts the following Monday. I'll see you both then. And don't forget your curriculums. Mr. Malfoy, I have already received yours for your younger year classes but I still need your NEWT curriculums. Mr. Potter, I have none of yours."    
  
"Sorry, Headmistress," Harry said.    
  
Draco nodded. "I'll have them to you by then, Headmistress." They both began to stand up.    
  
"Thank you," McGonagall said. "I look forward to working with you both."    
  
"Likewise," Draco smiled. He and Harry then exited the Headmistress' office together.    
  
When the door closed behind them, leaving them standing in the hall, Draco turned to Harry, arms crossed. "Control yourself," he said.    
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "I just don't agree that I should have to shut up about all of this. I can have an opinion, can't I?"    
  
Draco turned and began walking. "Actually, when you become famous, your ability to have an opinion changes. You can still have one, but you should likely keep it to yourself."    
  
Harry gave a quick jog to catch up. "Well I'm not going to keep all my opinions to myself forever. Like the fact that I am so in love with you."    
  
This made Draco try and hide a smile. "I'm still mad at you," he said, navigating them through the halls to the main doors of Hogwarts.    
  
Taking a deep breath, Harry yelled out, "I am in love with Draco Malfoy!"    
  
Draco stopped and turned to Harry, eyes wide. "What the hell, Harry?"    
  
"Head over heels!" Harry yelled again, loudly, making Draco blush.    
  
"What are you doing?"    
  
Harry shrugged, taking Draco's hand and continuing their walk. "Well, like I just said, I refuse to keep quiet about it. So I figured I'd yell it to an empty castle. Or, at least, mostly empty."    
  
Draco sighed as if annoyed, but the light blush on his cheeks indicated otherwise. "Harry, you idiot. You really do never think through things. What if Peeves heard you and goes around telling everyone?"    
  
"Eh, it's Peeves. They'll probably just assume that he's joking." Harry laughed, leaning over and kissing Draco's cheek. "You still mad? I mean, how can you be mad at me when I'm being so cute?"    
  
Draco rolled his eyes, clearly avoiding the question because they both knew he wasn't mad anymore. "Come on. We have to work on our curriculums."    
  
They reached the grand front doors of the castle, stepping outside into the warm summer air. As they walked to the edge of the grounds to apparate, Harry groaned.    
  
"How do you have so many of yours done already? Every time I sit down to try and figure out what to teach them all, I just draw up blanks. I was thinking I could base it off of the kinds of things we learned each year and then I remembered that we never had good Defense teachers. I mean, Lupin was great and all but we were way too young to deal with a boggart, don't you think?"    
  
"We all faced it well enough, didn't we?"    
  
Harry stared down at the lush grass beneath his feet. "I don't want to underestimate the kids, but I also don't want to give them something they have no chance of doing."    
  
The two reached the ends of Hogwarts' grounds and stopped.    
  
"Do you want to sidealong back to one of ours so I can hold you accountable for your curriculums or do you have plans?" Draco asked, casual like it didn't matter.    
  
A smile broke out across Harry's face and he brushed back Draco's white-blond hair. "I'd love to spend time with you. Yours or mine? Which do you think would have less distractions?" His hand lingered on Draco's cheek.    
  
"Well I do have to get my half-finished NEWT curriculums from my flat."    
  
"Alright then." Harry shuffled closer, his other hand coming to Draco's waist. "Yours it is."    
  
In a snap, they were both standing in Draco's kitchen.    
  
"You could have given me some warning, you know," Draco whispered, eyes on Harry's lips.    
  
Harry leaned forward, intending to close the gap. Just before he got there, Draco whispered something else. "Parchment's in the other room. Get yourself set up at the table."    
  
As Harry rolled his eyes, Draco slipped out of his grip to get his own papers.    
  
Minutes later, they were both pouring over scrolls of parchment and textbook lists. Draco was concentrated, focused. He had most of a plan for what he wanted his NEWT students to do. Of course, he had already outlined the skills that would likely be required on the NEWT exam, but he was trying to decide which other advanced potions to have them make.    
  
Harry, on the other hand, was slowly falling asleep until his head slipped off of his hand and hit the open textbook in front of him.    
  
Draco looked up as Harry jerked up, rubbing his forehead.    
  
"Do you need some help?" Draco asked.    
  
"I have no idea, Draco. I'm working on the first years right now. I was thinking we should start with mostly theory for them but I also want them to have some fun, you know? Theory isn't fun. No one likes it. Actually doing something? That's exciting!" He leaned forward in his chair as he spoke. "And I really want them to like my class. I loved Defense and I want my students to feel the same way. They won't if all they're doing is reading  _ this _ boring textbook. I hate this thing."    
  
"Well, for one," Draco said. "You're going to want to break up that theory, anyway. Introduce the theory as it's needed. Maybe alternate and have theory days and activity days."    
  
Harry chewed on the end of his quill, not noticing the ink spot it was leaving on his lip. "You know, the other thing is that I have no idea where any of these kids are at. You at least have an idea of what they should have learned by now. But these kids have had a different professor every year. They may have missed essential skills and I don't want them to fail their OWLs because I failed to fill in the gaps."    
  
Draco shrugged, already back to finishing up the final touches on his NEWT class curriculum. "Maybe give them an assessment at the beginning of the year."    
  
"Then I'd have to have a plan for all different outcomes of where they could be and--Draco," Harry broke off, pulling the quill out of his mouth and sitting up straighter. "You're a genius."    
  
Without looking up, Draco said quietly, "I know." Then he paused, glancing up. "Wait, what are you going to do?"    
  
Harry ignored him, unraveling a piece of parchment far longer than he should need to write a years' worth of curriculum. Knowing how Harry could be, Draco just went back to his diligent writing, referencing potions books every now and then, occasionally getting up to look through his own potions stock.    
  
The sun was setting when Draco finally finished. He wrapped up all of his scrolls and went to the other room to retrieve his owl.    
  
Harry had long since moved away from the table and when Draco was walking to his owl, he noticed Harry had sprawled himself across the floor of Draco's sitting room, textbooks surrounding him on all sides.    
  
Noticing Draco standing there, Harry looked up from his parchment that stretched to the other side of the room where it laid, rolled up.    
  
"Hey," he said. "Did you finish?"    
  
"I did, in fact," Draco said, raising an eyebrow at the state of his flat. "How is it coming along for you?"    
  
Harry straightened up, sitting back on his heels. "I think I'm almost finished. At the point where I am now, I'm confident my students would be able to pass their NEWTs. It's just that, if they're ahead, I may have to fill some time during their seventh year and that's what I'm trying to plan now."    
  
Coming closer, Draco found himself curious. "What do you mean, ahead?"    
  
"Well," Harry began gesturing with his quill as he spoke. "You gave me the idea for, like, a placement test, right? I have marked on here--see the lines--" He indicated a few. "little benchmark skills I would expect each year to have. First years, obviously, are just starting at the beginning of the list and when they're seventh years they will end..." He looked down the list, noticing a starred line at the end. "Here. That's when they would take their NEWTs. But for the other years, I'm going to take the first few days to test them at the benchmarks and then we'll go back and fill in what we need to before continuing on down the skills they should have."    
  
"Wow, Harry," Draco said, surprised. "That's actually a really good way of making sure they know all the skills they need to. Good job."    
  
Harry beamed up at him. "Thanks." He stood and began to roll the scroll up. "I'll finish it tomorrow and owl it to McGonagall. For now, how about you and I take some time for the two of us? You know," Harry paused, sticking his tongue out to untangle the parchment that began flipping over on itself. "Pretty soon we aren't going to have a lot of time for us. Things'll probably get busy with school and all."    
  
"Well then, we'll just have to get creative, won't we?"    
  
Harry's eyes widened. "What do you mean by that?"   
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "We aren't teenagers, Harry. No more hooking up in hall closets for you. I was meaning that the important thing is that we're together. We can do something like today, have dates where we grade papers together."    
  
"Ooh, sexy," Harry laughed, rolling up the last of his scroll. Draco laughed along with him. As Harry walked closer, he set the parchment down. "I guess we'll just have to sign up to be Hogsmeade chaperones on the same weekends."    
  
"I don't know if anyone would consider you a responsible chaperone," Draco joked, draping his arms around Harry's neck.    
  
"With you there, what could go wrong?" Harry leaned in and stole a quick kiss.    
  
When he pulled back, Draco said, "I think you and I will do just fine balancing work and dating. That is, as long as we can evade the gossip which means no more yelling to the castle that you're in love with me."    
  
"Ooh, no promises there," Harry smirked.    
  
"If you're smart, you'll change that answer." Draco tried not to laugh.    
  
"Okay," Harry relented. "I promise I won't yell out into the castle that I'm in love with you." He stepped away from Draco and out of reach. "Instead, I'll yet it at Hogsmeade and in the Ministry and--"    
  
"Harry!" Draco lunged for him and Harry darted out of the way, taking off across Draco's flat, into the kitchen, both of their laughter bouncing off the walls.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> draco: has been working on his curriculums since he was first contacted for the job, planning meticulously
> 
> harry: procrastinating and desperately trying to not ring-up hermione
> 
>  
> 
> !!!!!!THEY WILL BE PROFESSORS NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE


	9. Welcome, Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!!!! This is THE chapter, folks, the whole reason I started writing this fic. The speech in this chapter is what inspired me to write the entire fic and I am so glad that we are finally here and I hope you all love it!

Draco found Harry just as they were both approaching the castle. It was an airy day, but it promised the end of summer, anticipating fall in a way that mirrored Draco's anxiety about the night.    
  
"Hey," Harry greeted, coming to stand in front of him. "You ready for this?"    
  
Even Harry seemed nervous so Draco decided it wasn't so terrible that he was jittery as well. "I guess we'll find out," he replied with a smile.    
  
The train could be seen in the distance, students clambering off towards the thestrals, most unaware of their presence.    
  
"We should get going," Harry said. "Don't want to be late."    
  
"If I recall correctly, being late to the feast was a specialty of yours once or twice," Draco joked as they made their way into the castle.    
  
Within minutes, the Great Hall was buzzing with activity, house tables overflowing with excited students. The only table that wasn't overjoyed seemed to be the subdued Slytherins. Draco noticed Harry arch a confused brow at their behavior but he found himself completely understanding. They sat at the table with their fellow professors, Harry to the left of McGonagall, Draco directly to his left.    
  
Neville appeared, ushering out the first years, Sorting Hat in hand, and the sorting commenced with a song.    
  
Draco tuned it out, keeping a careful eye on the students before him. Already, he knew that there was much work to be done with these students. The Slytherins looked as if they were tortured just to be here.    
  
He didn't like that look at all.    
  
He turned his attention back to the first years as the first name was called. A small, blonde girl sat down on the stool and the Sorting Hat sat on her head for barely a moment before it yelled out:    
  
"Gryffindor!"    
  
The Gryffindor house table exploded with cheers, welcoming in their first new student of the year to the table. She was met with a warm reception, hugs and high-fives.    
  
In fact, the first three were all Gryffindors and the Great Hall was alight with the house pride.    
  
Following was a Hufflepuff, who immediately ran to his house with such unbridled joy. It made Draco's heart warm at the sight.    
  
The next child walked up to the stool. A boy, small for his age, with dark brown eyes sat down and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.    
  
"Slytherin!"    
  
Unintentionally, Draco smiled. Then, he registered the silence of the room.    
  
He glanced out at the four tables. The Slytherins were silent, staring down at the table in front of them. The other three tables were averting their gaze, as if trying to ignore a despicable act.    
  
Draco looked back to the boy who was getting up from his seat on the stool. His chin was raised high as he walked to the Slytherin table but, as he passed by the professors, Draco could see that his eyes were filling with tears.    
  
Harry instinctively started up but Draco placed a hand on his arm under the table and Harry stopped, sitting back down on his chair. As the next students was sorted, they shared a look.    
  
"That's not right," Harry whispered.    
  
"Of course it's not. But you're too angry to get up and yell at them right now. The discrimination against Slytherin house is something we will have to work away at every single day in our classrooms. If you yell at them now, they won't take you seriously then. Some times you must stand and act; others you must wait."    
  
Harry glared ahead of him, clearly still upset. Draco moved his hand to clasp Harry's and saw his shoulders lose a little of their anger.    
  
The sorting continued in that same way: cheers for new Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, silence for the Slytherins.    
  
Draco could tell all of the professors were unhappy but it wasn't like they could force the Slytherins to cheer. It was up to the students themselves to regain their House pride despite discrimination. That would be the first step.    
  
And damn if Draco didn't plan to instill that in them. They deserved to be proud of themselves. They had, after all, done nothing wrong.    
  
Eleven year olds should not be paying for his mistakes.    
  
The tension, for the most part, alleviated when the Sorting was finished. It was then that McGonagall stood up and silence fell over the room, all eyes turning to her.    
  
"Welcome back, students. I hope that you are looking forward to another year of studying witchcraft and wizardry here at Hogwarts." She clasped her hands together. "You have likely already noticed that our staff has experienced some changes. Professor Longbottom has vacated his seat as Gryffindor head of house in response to multiple student inquiries that he would be their club sponsor. Also, he doesn't care much for Quidditch."    
  
The Gryffindors laughed lightly, but seemed fond of Neville.    
  
"Unfortunately," McGonagall continued. "Not all of those clubs will be able to start this coming year. Our former potions professor, Professor McCleary, has retired. This means that she has left the Ravenclaw students in need of a Head of House. Professor Longbottom has graciously offered to step in.    
  
"This means that Gryffindor House is also in need of a new Head of House. Our last Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Olander, has vacated the position. His replacement is someone that I hope will be with us for more than a year." She gave Harry a sly look and he smiled back to her. "Professor Harry Potter will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as Gryffindor Head of House."    
  
Harry smiled and lifted a hand as the Gryffindor table erupted. They all seemed so excited, chattering with one another wide eyes. McGonagall had to call for them to be quiet before they returned their attention to her.    
  
"Of course, Professor Olander was also Slytherin head of house. Taking up that title will be our new potions professor, Draco Malfoy." McGonagall gestured to him and the Great Hall was silent. When he looked at the Slytherins, he could see some hope in the younger years, but the older students passed over him like there was no way he could help them; like they were beyond help.    
  
Just as McGonagall was sitting down, from the back of the room, the end of the Ravenclaw table, came what Draco had been anticipating all night:    
  
"Death Eater Scum!"    
  
Before McGonagall could react, Harry had stood up. Draco followed suit, deftly removing Harry's wand from his hand before anyone saw it.    
  
He glanced sideways. "Sit down, Harry." Then, he looked past Harry to McGonagall. "Headmistress, if you don't mind...?"    
  
She nodded to Draco and Harry sat down, likely recalling their earlier conversation. Draco had already slipped Harry's wand into his own pocket, so at least he didn't have to worry about that.    
  
He walked around the table, heading directly for where the call came from, fully aware that all eyes were watching his every move.    
  
As he reached the back of the table, most of the Ravenclaws had decency enough to avert their eyes. One, however, did not: a fifth year boy, eyes ablaze and chest heaving.    
  
"Were you the one that said that?" He asked, looking the student in the eye and knowing he would get the truth.    
  
"Yes," the student replied, defiantly.    
  
"What's your name?" Draco asked.    
  
"Joseph," he replied in the same tone.    
  
"Would you stand up, please, Joseph?"    
  
The student did, anger turning his skin red. "My parents were killed by Death Eaters," he blurted out.    
  
"I'm very sorry to hear that," Draco said. "I'm sure you would have done anything to save them, yes?"    
  
"Anything," Joseph said, turning his past hurt into present anger.    
  
"You're what year, Joseph?"   
  
"Fifth."    
  
Inwardly, Draco smiled. The poor child. He truly had no idea what he was talking about. He turned and looked back towards the front table.    
  
"Professor Longbottom," He began, aware that most of the hall was likely wondering what he was doing. "What was your fifth year like? If you could describe it?"    
  
Neville smiled before answering. "Interesting," he laughed.    
  
"Could you elaborate?" Draco asked.    
  
"Well, we had a Defense professor from the Ministry who refused to teach us anything. Voldemort was back and we were worried that the school would be attacked in the upcoming war and she refused to teach us anything. We were so afraid for our lives that we started a secret club, nicknamed the DA. Harry here," he gestured down the table. "Taught us a bunch of different spells that could help protect us. If we were caught doing any of them, though, our Defense professor would give us detention. All we were doing was trying not to die." He clearly understood what Draco was getting at, so he said again, "The thing I remember the most about my fifth year was desperately learning how to avoid death. And we all ended up needing it."    
  
Draco nodded. "Thank you for sharing. Mr. Potter, what was your fifth year like?"    
  
Harry laughed loud. "Uh, angsty," was his reply.    
  
Barely holding back a laugh himself, Draco said, "An understatement, Mr. Potter, but if you would please..." He gestured for him to go on.    
  
"Well," Harry took a deep breath. "At the beginning of the summer, I had been strapped to a gravestone in a circle of Death Eaters and watched the Dark Lord rise from a large cauldron after some dude chopped his own hand off. And the kicker of it all was that no one would believe me! The ministry was trying to keep it silent because they didn’t want to believe Voldemort was back. Every time I tried talking about it Umbridge would make me write lines of 'I will not tell lies' with a blood quill. I was a little fed up with all of it and then I was asked to teach the DA.   
  
"That was so nerve wracking; I felt like there was so much responsibility. Since Umbridge sure as hell wasn't going to prepare anyone to fight for their lives in the coming war, my friends, the kids around me? I was all they had. And every time I taught them a new spell, I would just think that if I wasn’t able to teach them in a way that they would get that spell, it may be the death of them. I just kept thinking that if I messed up and forgot to teach something important, I would be holding the bodies of my friends."   
  
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Not the best year, I'd say." He paused. "What about you, Malfoy? What was your fifth year like? If you could sum it up?"    
  
Draco was grateful that Harry had caught on and given him the exact transition that he needed. He addressed the room as he spoke.    
  
"Terrifying." He let the word sink in for a moment.    
  
"At the beginning of the summer, the Dark Lord rose again. And, as you said, Mr. Potter, he summoned his Death Eaters, which were essentially the only resource he had at that point and he was always one to bleed a resource until it was beyond dead. I came home that summer from Hogwarts to find that my home had been turned into Death Eater headquarters. Every move I made was watched, every mistake was met with a cruciatus curse. I was in a position where I couldn’t have fought back, even though I had wanted to.    
  
"Going back to Hogwarts fifth year was a relief but not entirely. I knew he had other spies at the school so I couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t try to get help. And I had to go back the following summer. It was then, before my sixth year, that the Dark Lord approached me and pointed his wand not at me, but at my mother." Again, Draco paused. He turned back to look at Joseph, his tone softening. He wanted to make it clear that he felt the boy's pain. Voldemort had taken everything from so many people.    
  
"He told me that I was to be his servant, to do his bidding, to take his mark. If I refused, he would torture and kill my mother."    
  
For a moment, Draco had to pause, trying not to choke up at the memory. Then, he held his chin high and continued.    
  
He pulled up his left sleeve, making sure it was high above his elbow so his Dark Mark would be fully in view. Draco lifted his arm up and turned in a slow circle so everyone could see the stain his past had left with him.    
  
Then he dropped his arm back by his side, leaving the sleeve where it was. He looked back to Joseph, speaking, not accusingly, but solemnly.    
  
"I did what anyone would have done. There is nothing I wouldn't have done to save the life of my mother. So, I will not stop you if you call me things like ‘Death Eater scum.’ I did take the mark. There is no denying that. But you are children who are speaking of things of which you know nothing about and I think it’s about time that you learn to think before you speak."       
  
His lesson thoroughly communicated, Draco gently pulled his sleeve down and turned and walked back to the table in the front. He kept his gaze straight as he walked, concealing well the fact that his entire body was shaking.    
  
As he took his seat once more, McGonagall commenced the feast. Food appeared on the tables and students began chatting and eating.    
  
Playing nonchalant, Draco turned towards Harry and, through a fake smile said, "How was that? Because I'm seriously freaking out." He faked a small laugh.    
  
Harry was beaming at him. "Babe...that was." He laughed. "I have no words. I mean, I obviously already respect you so much but that was just--" He took Draco's hand under the table. "Draco, that was amazing. You did so well. That took so much courage to put yourself out there like that. And, you didn't see the looks on these kids' faces as you walked back. They were in absolute awe. And, Draco," he paused, smiling. "You should have seen the look on the Slytherins' faces. You're exactly what they need."    
  
He then added, "And, thank you for stopping me earlier. Your speech just now did so much more to help the Slytherin students than my angry one would have."    
  
Before Draco could say anything else, a head popped in next to them. "Hey, guys!" Neville said.    
  
"Nev!" Harry exclaimed, standing and giving his friend a hug. "It's so good to see you," he said as he drew back and sat down once more.    
  
"You too, Harry!" Neville then turned to Draco. "Malfoy, that was... _ Shit _ . I've got to say, things have been getting real bad the last few years with the way the students treat the Slytherins and their past heads of house have never done anything about it. I'm so glad that you took the job." He put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Malfoy, these kids need you. They've lost all hope in who they are. Never done a bad thing but can't get it out of their heads that they're evil just because they're wearing green and black. After that speech? I'm confident that you can change that."    
  
"Wow, thank you Neville. That's...very kind of you to say."    
  
Neville smiled. "If you have the balls to do that, you far more than deserve it, Draco. Welcome to the team. You two are going to love working here."    
  
With that, he nodded goodbye and returned to his seat.    
  
Draco turned back to Harry, blinking quick to deny the tears their open exit.    
  
Harry smiled at him and squeezed his hand.    
  
"You didn't tell me you're head of house," Harry accused jokingly.    
  
Draco laughed. "Yeah, well, you didn't either. What, did you want it to be a surprise? I mean, how could they hire Harry Potter and not make him Gryffindor head of house?"    
  
Harry shrugged. "Very true, very true. I have, after all, wielded the Sword of Gryffindor."    
  
They shared a glance, both of them laughing.    
  
"I think you're gonna do just fine as a professor, Harry," Draco said. "That is, if you can keep yourself in check and not start throwing curses at your students if they insult your boyfriend."   
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "I wasn't going to curse them." All Draco had to do was lift his eyebrows before Harry sighed. "No one would have even known it was me. I'm discreet like that."    
  
Draco laughed. "You have never been discreet in your life, Harry James Potter. You just have to remember that the best way to go about these sorts of things is to remain calm. Even if it hurts."    
  
Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table where the students were quietly eating, most not even talking to each other. "It makes me angry because it hurts them, not just because it hurts me. These kids don't deserve these negative stereotypes, you know? None of it is their fault."    
  
"Of course it's not. But the best way to make sure they learn that is to teach it to  _ them _ through love and support. Defending them is good, but if you do it in the wrong way...They're kids and they can have a different perception on things, you know?"    
  
Harry smiled at him. "I'm really glad that you took this job. For more reasons than one."    
  
"Promise me that you'll let me work on the Slytherins' self esteem and not go over the top with yelling at students?"    
  
With a laugh and an over-exaggerated sigh, Harry said, "I promise."    
  
"Alright, then." Draco nodded. He reached down and took Harry's wand out of his pocket. "You can have this back then."    
  
"Oh, how gracious," Harry laughed.    
  
"Always." Draco felt Harry once again squeeze his hand under the table.    
  
Yes, he thought he was going to like being here quite a lot.    
  
  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GO TF OFF DRACO
> 
> me, a slytherin, crying in the corner: they're not evil!! they just want to do things!! ambition! does! not! mean! evil!!!!! let them know they are not bad, draco!!!
> 
> i made it a ravenclaw student cause i figured it would be too cliche to play off of the slytherin gryffindor rivalry cause this is so much more than that and also, i mean, i wouldn't do that to a hufflepuff

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Please feel free to leave a comment and/ or message me on [ tumblr ](https://www.shelvesuponshelves.tumblr.com)
> 
> I will try to keep to a schedule but I don’t know what it is yet so no promises! If you liked it, click the subscribe button to not miss out!
> 
> I am also currently taking ficlet requests on [ tumblr ](https://www.shelvesuponshelves.tumblr.com)


End file.
